


Marriage Counseling

by isaytheenay



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaytheenay/pseuds/isaytheenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Elsa are having problems. Arguments between them have escalated and the once-happy marriage has become a burden for them both. India, their three-year old child, is the only reason they have stayed together for so long, but even that isn’t a permanent solution. At Elsa’s request on a last chance to save their marriage, they decide to go to a renowned marriage counselor, Tom Hiddleston. The meetings between Chris and Tom start from strictly business to something more… personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room was well-lit and decorated with a wide assortment of calming items. Books on the shelves were lined up but appeared to be unread, only for show. There was a faint aroma in the air, sweet but not overpowering. Chris looked around the room and behind himself, finding the small incense in the corner of the room on the wooden desk. 

He turned forward and wrung his hands out, wanting to get this over with. He had no desire to be here – the entire notion was absolute stupidity, honestly – but he had to do this for Elsa. 

He never expected for his marriage to come down the path it had. It was becoming a burden now, having to live the life they’d come too. At first, everything had seemed perfect: a beautiful wife, a wonderful family, and a job that would guarantee a happy life. He chose to spend that life with Elsa, but now it seemed like a mistake. Perhaps he was rash, or maybe they just weren’t right for each other in the long run, but there was no changing the past.

He didn’t regret everything, though. He had been happy with Elsa at one point; why else would he have married her? She was beautiful, smart, and a fun person. Everyone in his family loved her, too. They shared fond memories from taking vacations together to first moving in with one another. So many things made him laugh when he thought of her. He remembered their first official date. He remembered introducing her to the family, and getting the brotherly approval from Luke and Liam. He remembered the expression on her face when he asked her to marry him. 

That was a long time ago, however.

Now things were different. Their lives could easily be described as mundane, or repetitive. There were few things Chris found joy in anymore, and none involved Elsa. He liked being with his friends. He liked being away from home at work. Most of all, he loved India. He would hold her and everything would be okay. She would smile up at him with her big blue eyes, reaching up for him, calling for him over and over until he gave her what she wanted. She had practically been carried by him all his life, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He reminisced on the moment he first held India. He had been so happy, so overwhelmed with joy, unable to believe that he’d created such a perfect and wonderful creature. He would never regret her. Not in a million years. 

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she murmured, breaking him out of his thoughts. Chris spared a glance and looked at her hands folded in her lap, then hummed in response, shifting in his chair. He had to admit, the chairs were comfortable, but knowing the price people like him paid to people like the man they were soon to meet, it was no surprise. 

“It’ll be good for us. We’re really going to make a good change this time.” She always said _we_ , like _he_ was involved in the reason they were there. Technically, it was true, but he never thought of himself as a problem in the first place. He didn’t suggest _this_ as the way out.

“I guess.” Chris shrugged, looking around again, distracting himself. He reached out and grabbed one of the books on the table in front of them, opening to a random page and skimming over it. It was purely technical, dealing with psychological terms he’d never even heard in all his life. He had a feeling the man was going to use a lot of these words. People like this always tried to flaunt their knowledge with their extended vocabulary. No wonder the degree was hung in a place so visible to the client.

Elsa sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Can you at least _try_ to be happy?” 

“I’m sorry.” The words were lost on their meaning by now. Chris closed the book, setting it back where he found it. It was then that he noticed a box of tissues. He nearly groaned.

“I’m doing this for us. We need this. I just…” She sighed and looked at him pleadingly, reaching out to rest her hand on his forearm. “I want us to be happy again.”

Chris looked down at his arm, then up to Elsa. It took some effort, but he smiled for her, and in that moment, the door opened.

“Ah, good evening,” the man strode in, dressed in casual (yet he still managed to look relatively smart) clothing. He wore black slacks and a blue button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had light blond-brown hair and bright blue eyes (though as he stepped into the natural light that flowed in from the window, they almost appeared to change to a green color). Even Chris couldn’t deny that he was handsome as a first impression. With a wide grin, the man stepped up to them both, his notepad tucked beneath his arm. “I’m so sorry that I’m a bit late.”

“No problem at all,” Elsa said and stood, Chris following suit. Tom extended his hand to her, shaking it.

“My name is Tom Hiddleston, as you know. Elsa, I know we’ve spoken over the phone once or twice now, but I feel a proper introduction is in order.” He turned his gaze to Chris, shaking his hand as well. “You must be Chris; it’s a pleasure.”

Chris smiled again, though it was clear that he was uncomfortable. 

Tom gestured to the sofa. “Please, please, sit. Can I get anything for either of you? Coffee, tea…?”

“Oh, no, we’re fine. Thank you.” Elsa replied politely, crossing her legs elegantly and resting her hand on Chris’ arm again. After noticing that it hadn’t moved, he gave a sideways glance to her, frowning slightly. It must have been the kindest and most intimate gesture they had shared in a long time. 

Tom nodded and sat, crossing his leg over his own and resting the notepad in his lap. “Very well. Now, let’s just start with how you two met. Just, tell me how it started. As much as you’re comfortable with sharing.”

Elsa looked over at Chris, silently trying to figure out who would take up the answer. Seeing as Chris wasn’t speaking, she spoke up. “Well, we met at a meeting, through our representatives. His parents own a very large international corporation, and I work in modeling. We were two of the most unlikely people to cross paths, but… that was how it started, I guess. We were introduced and we must have talked for an hour about anything and everything. After that, Chris and I saw each other on a number of occasions: other meetings, parties, even on the street.” She smiled softly, and Chris wasn’t sure whether to smile with her or just ask her to get on with it. “He asked me to coffee one day, and I just couldn’t say no. We had become friends since then, and soon he was asking me to coffee every month, every week… and when he asked me to dinner for our first real _date_ , I just… I think I knew that he was perfect for me.” She smiled over at Chris, but turned her attention back to Tom. “When we were dating then, he was charming and sweet, even spontaneous and exciting. He was everything I wanted.”

Tom smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I thought he was just another rich boy, at first. Another guy just trying to flaunt his wealth and get anyone he wanted. But as I came to know him better, I knew he was different. He didn’t care about his money, and he didn’t try to win people over for that. His personality and his heart was what won me over, and that was why I said yes when he asked if I would marry him.”

“It sounds as though you had a beautiful relationship to that point.”

“We did.” She looked over to Chris expectantly, waiting for him to agree, protest, to say _something_. 

Chris cleared his throat. “Yeah, uhh… it was great when we got together. We have a lot of good memories from that time.”

Tom nodded, jotting something down on the notepad. “Now let’s try and figure out what changed. And it’s alright if you do or don’t know, because we can figure it out here, together.” He gave a warm smile, and Chris knew Elsa was won over by him. He dreaded the ride home, assuming he would be listening to her rave on about how wonderful this experience was going to be.

Elsa sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I try to think about it, to figure out what happened. I don’t know if this is some sort of bumpy path we’ve taken, but I want the old us back. Everything was wonderful until about two years ago. Things just started to fall apart.”

He took a few notes before speaking. “Things?”

“Our time together feels strained,” Chris raised an eyebrow at that, but kept to himself; he didn’t want to speak out and appear like the bad guy, “and when we go out, I feel like we’re lying to everyone about how we’re doing and how life is, and finally even our… love life, has changed.” She said the last part quietly, hoping Chris wouldn’t feel too out of him comfort zone with Tom being aware of the information.

He was already far beyond his comfort zone when he’d stepped inside this room.

“I understand. That’s normal, too. When you’re not happy together in general, everything else follows the same path. Now Chris,” Tom turned towards him a bit, and Chris went rigid, “I want to hear your reactions to what she’s just said. About the things that have changed, according to her.”

“Oh, uhh,” he shifted in his seat again, not meeting either of their gazes. They already weighed heavily on him. “I guess I get the lying part and the love life… but it’s not like we _have_ to feel the strain when we’re together. I’m not the one who comes home _looking_ for something to nag about.”

Elsa blinked, taken off guard by the comment. “What? I don’t do that—”

“Really? Within five minutes, you make sure to inform me on all the things I hadn’t managed to do that day, despite having a job.”

“Chris, I understand that, but we each have to do our fair share. You don’t do anything around the house when you get home; it’s just TV or work. I’m the only one who asks about your day anymore, just to _try_ and get some sort of conversation going. You never ask me about mine anyways!” 

His anger was rising quickly. “Did it occur to you that maybe I want some time to unwind? We can’t all have easy jobs like you do.”

“Easy?” She recoiled at that. “How is my job _easy?_ ”

Chris gave her a look of disbelief. “All you have to do is get photos taken of you! How hard is that?!” 

“I have to maintain so much for that, Chris, you can’t even begin to understand. Besides, I make food for us, I try and organize quality time for us, I do _so much_ , and you’re completely ignoring that now? On top of all that, I watch over India and make sure she is being taken care of, whether it’s by the babysitter, at a friend’s house, or at home with us! Don’t you appreciate that?”

“I do, Elsa, but it’s hard when you get upset with me if I leave three fucking dishes in the sink!”  
She sighed, quieting down now. “I don’t get upset with you over that, I just remind you that they’re there—”

He scoffed. This was getting ridiculous. “By yelling at me? I hardly think that’s a way to—”

“Would you stop interrupting me?!” She shouted, and the room suddenly went still. 

Tom felt it wise to intervene then, now that he’d seen what their battles could be like. It wasn’t the worst he had seen, but it sure had struck a familiar chord within him. He shook that out of his head and spoke. “Alright, I think that’s enough…”

Chris turned his attention to Tom; he’d completely forgotten that he was there. “No, we’re not done. Or maybe instead you’d like to analyze us and say what our problems are? You’re the one who’s supposed to be counseling anyways!”

Elsa gasped and grabbed Chris’ arm again. _“Chris.”_

“What? Isn’t that why we’re here?” He pushed her arm from his own. “And stop doing that,” he muttered, standing. “I need to leave. I can’t do this right now.”

They watched Chris storm out, Elsa’s eyes filled with tears while Tom’s gaze was sympathetic. Most people didn’t like counseling the first time. 

“I-I’m… I’m so sorry, Tom, I…” She gave a quiet sob, and Tom set aside the notepad and stood, making his way beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side and reached for the tissues on the table, dabbing at her eyes as she cried. She hid her face in her hand and tried to muffle her sobs, though all of the pressure that had built over these years was finally getting to her. “I just thought… I don’t want to lose him, Tom, I don’t…” 

“We’ll work things out, Elsa. Don’t worry. Just let it out for now.” He looked towards the door as she continued to cry, shaking terribly when she fetched another tissue. Tom wanted to help them (as he always did with any couple that came seeking advice); however, seeing how Elsa was so devoted to Chris in every way was what inspired him to want to try harder than usual. It wasn’t like he’d never seen someone cry like she did or speak of her husband the way she did. Nevertheless, he still wanted to give his very best. “I will do whatever I can, Elsa. I promise.” 

She nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes again. She offered him a smile and took a deep breath. Tom rubbed her back soothingly. “Thank you. Really.”

“Of course.” After a moment, he asked, “Are you sure you still want to do this…?”

“I’m sure.” Her voice was determined. “I want this to work. I really do.”

“Alright.” After a few more minutes, she wiped away all of her tears and scheduled another appointment, two weeks from then. Tom figured that they would need time to get into the habit of things, and Elsa promised to make more time for it so they could possibly be weekly meetings. Tom did his best to make her feel as little pressure as possible, but Elsa seemed to take it upon herself anyways. They said their farewells – Tom giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze and telling her to call him if she needed anything – and soon he was alone again, picking up his notepad and taking a few more notes. 

Elsa took a slight detour to the bathroom, looking at her complexion before she headed out to the car. She looked tired. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Her eyes were still puffy and red from all of the crying she’d done. She hadn’t let herself go like that in a long time, and when she did, it felt good. Having a shoulder to cry on was a great comfort to her. 

She took a deep, shaky breath and stepped out. Making her way to their parked car, she decided not to say anything when she stepped into the passenger’s seat, not wanting to spark anything more between them. She would prevent all arguments if she could help it. 

Chris’ anger had since faded, though his patience was still thin from the meeting. It was a waste of time, he decided, and he could have spent the hour doing much better things than talking about his feelings and ending up in another argument with Elsa. Just then, the car door opened and shut, and Elsa took her place beside him. Chris looked over at her before he started the car, frowning when he noticed that she’d been crying. He didn’t know what to say, if anything, and turned on the ignition and pulled from the parking lot. The drive home was silent and awkward: it felt like they both wanted to say something, but no words would come out. Maybe it was for the best.


	2. Chapter 2

After a few days, Elsa knew she had to talk to Chris about the next appointment. She had found time for them both to make a weekly appointment each Thursday, but for now she only aimed for biweekly appointments. The real challenge was to convince Chris to _go_ to one of these meetings.

Chris came into the kitchen, looking over Elsa’s shoulder at what she was making for dinner that night. Keeping to herself, Elsa closed her eyes briefly, remembering when Chris would take her around the waist, kiss her hair and ask her what was cooking. The thought both made her chest feel warm and made her stomach knot uncomfortably. Some memories were perhaps too painful, no matter how loving they used to be.

Chris turned and fetched some plates. “Looks good,” he commented, almost off-handedly.

“Oh… thanks.” She was taken aback by the comment, but she wouldn’t let it show. She wondered what had gotten into him. The first counseling meeting hadn’t made him happy, that was for sure, but something was different about him. She looked back at what Chris was doing, and took a double take. Was he setting the table? When was the last time they’d eaten dinner together at the table? She’d only assumed he had grabbed a plate for himself, intending to eat in his office again.

Again, she didn’t question it. The entire situation felt fragile.

Chris left the room (Elsa assumed to fetch India), who was playing with her dolls in her room. He smiled down at her in the doorway, and she smiled, waving at him. “Hi, daddy,” she said.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and knelt down. “Are you hungry?”

She set down her dolls and grinned. “Yeah!” 

“Alright, then, c’mon,” he reached for her and picked her up, balancing her on his hip. Even now, as she was growing from a toddler into a small kid, he would still carry her all over the place. It was a wonder she could walk; Chris rarely left her on her feet if he could help it.

He walked her into the dining room and set her in her chair, getting her some orange juice. He took a beer for himself, and left out the orange juice for Elsa if she wanted any. As soon as she plated dinner, Chris helped India cut up the food for her and made sure to watch her, knowing she was bridging into eating the same food that they did. 

“How was work?” Elsa asked. 

Chris shrugged, still in the middle of his first bite. “It was fine,” he said after he’d finished. “I don’t have anything to do at home tonight.”

“Good, good.” She waited, wondering if Chris would ask about her day as well. It was a hope in vain, unfortunately. Maybe it was wrong to assume Chris had suddenly changed like this. Still feeling the tense air around them, she leaned over to India, optimistic that she could involve Chris in a longer conversation through her. “Did you have fun with the babysitter today?” 

“Mhmm,” she said, nodding as she took a sip of orange juice. “We drew pictures and played board games.”

“Which board game did you play?”

“Life. I had a car with you, me, and daddy too! It was a lot of fun, even though I didn’t win the first time. But I won the second time!” She beamed up at her, proud. 

“Good! Maybe we should play that together, as a family…” She glanced over at Chris pointedly. “I can’t remember the last time I played.” There was a long pause. Chris seemed out of it, not listening, and Elsa sighed. “Chris.”

“What?” He blinked out of his thoughts and looked over at them, only just entering the conversation. 

Elsa sighed, moving away from India, returning to her food. Obviously, she wasn’t pleased.

“What did I do?” Chris asked, setting the fork down. He was busy eating, not making conversation; was that so wrong? Did Elsa really expect him to be entirely focused on her 24/7?

“Can you at least try to be involved in what’s going on _here?_ ” She gestured over to India briefly. 

Chris sighed. “I’m just thinking about work…”

“I know. You’re always thinking about work.”

“Elsa, I can’t help it; I have an important job with a lot of responsibility. I manage my position as well as the employees, and it’s a lot of work, alright? If one of them isn’t doing their job, I’m the one responsible. I take the heat, and that affects our image as well as what sort of clients I get. Our reliability is what keeps us alive. And I take care of a lot of other things too, like our bills and our finances. So if my mind is somewhere else, don’t just shut down on me like that!”

The room fell silent after Chris’ small outburst. India kept quiet, eating silently, though she wasn’t that hungry anymore.

Elsa rested her head in her hand, setting her fork down as well. “God, Chris, I just… I wish you didn’t do that…”

“Do what?”

“Make me out to be the bad guy!” 

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, that’s _rich._ ” He grabbed his plate and the bottle. India sat up in her chair, watching him get up to leave.

“Where are you going, daddy…?” She frowned up at him, her eyes confused.

Chris looked down at her and sighed. He heart tugged painfully at the sight of her. He leaned over to kiss her head, stroking his hand through his hair. “I’m going to eat in my office. I’ll come and play with you later, alright?” When she nodded after a moment, Chris straightened and left, not sparing a single look at Elsa. 

Chris had managed to kill a few hours, doing extra work and simply browsing the internet. Out of boredom and pure curiosity, he spent a great deal of the time researching this Tom Hiddleston, wanting to know a bit more about him. Not because he wanted to go back, he told himself stubbornly. Nevertheless, he found a website and a page from the University he attended, giving him high regards and claiming him to be the best at what he did. He was honestly impressed with his achievements: paid his way through college and graduated with high honors. He participated in many activities alongside his coursework, like drama, and had nearly done a double major in that field. Apparently his instructors marveled at his ability to empathize and relate to any character that he played, and his interest in psychology was only strengthened in that regard. He left drama as a hobby, focused entirely on his major, and completed his master’s degree a number of years later.

More searching showed that he’d done minor teaching work, but it didn’t last very long; Tom had apparently not found it as personal as he wanted it to be. Speaking to a crowd was one thing, but helping individuals was another thing entirely, according to him. It made Chris smile; he really did have a kind heart. Purely selfless.

Scrolling down the page led him to a photo gallery, and he couldn’t help but take interest in the pictures taken of him. He knew he thought he was handsome when they’d met, but… “Jesus,” he murmured, his sigh almost sounding longing. Realizing he’d spoken aloud, he tensed. He spared a look over to the door, almost feeling like he was looking through an indecent magazine. He rolled his eyes at his juvenile behavior. His eyes back on the screen, they slowly made their way down his figure in each photo, taking in his features. He was tall (nearly as tall as him, if he recalled correctly), with long limbs and a slim figure. He had a wonderful smile and bright eyes, and Chris found himself smiling again as he looked through more of the pictures. There weren’t many, and they were actually a few years old by now, but nevertheless, he enjoyed looking through them. 

From the hallway, he heard the dishes clattering, being put away after washing, and he knew Elsa was cleaning up. He shut the laptop.

He stood and made his way to India’s room just as he promised, knocking on the doorframe. She looked up from her coloring book and then turned her gaze back to the book, kicking her legs and humming to herself. Chris walked in and sat beside her on the bed. “What are you coloring?” 

“A doggie.” Chris smiled fondly when he saw it was green, colored messily in crayon.

“It’s pretty.” He was sincere; anything she made was beautiful.

“Mhmm,” she said idly, and Chris frowned. 

“Is something wrong?”

She shrugged, something she surely picked up from Chris. She colored for a while, scribbling back and forth over the grass with a too-bright green crayon. “You and mommy yell lots.”

Chris sighed. “I know we do… We never do it in front of you like that, though…”

“I can hear it, like when I’m sleeping.”

That caught him by surprise. They’d made an effort to not involve India whatsoever in their arguments. They didn’t want to expose her to it. “Oh…” He didn’t say anything for a long time, watching her again, worry rising within him. India had never spoken like this. She was usually excited and happy and carefree, but she sounded sad. Almost miserable. It made Chris’ chest ache with pain, and there was an empty, unpleasant feeling in his stomach. “I didn’t know you’d heard us until now.” When India didn’t reply, Chris felt a sense of panic rise up in his throat. What did he say now? He didn’t want her to act like this anymore. In that moment, he knew that their fights weren’t only affecting him and Elsa, even if they’d tried to keep her out of it. “But, uh… we’re doing something about it.”

India looked up at him, and Chris saw a sense of hope in her eyes. “You are? What are you and mommy doing?”

Chris offered a small smile. “We’re seeing someone… a man who works with people like mommy and I. He wants to fix us, make us happy again.”

India seemed to brighten at that. “He is? He’s gonna fix it?”

Now Chris’ smile was genuine. “Yeah. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be happy and you won’t hear us shout anymore, alright? Do you trust daddy?”

India grinned, nodding. “Yeah, I trust daddy!”

Chris laughed softly, taking her face in his hands and leaning down to kiss her hair. When she smiled at him, he suddenly grabbed her by her waist and lifted her up, flipping her over and blowing raspberry kisses into her stomach, making her squeal with laughter. She kicked her legs and laughed louder still, and Chris couldn’t help but join, nuzzling into her stomach and cuddling as close to her as possible.

Outside of her room, Elsa was smiling to herself, wiping a tear away. _That_ was the Chris she knew. The one who knew how to comfort you without needing any help. Spontaneous in all the right ways and the most loveable man on the planet. Just hearing him say that he would change... it gave her hope. This could very well be what they’ve needed all along. 

\--------------------

Later that night, Chris came to bed, setting his alarm clock and placing his phone on the night stand. He stripped down to his boxers and a loose white shirt, walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Elsa, who had been reading to be there when Chris finally arrived, set the book down and turned off her bedside lamp. She took a breath, steadying herself to confront Chris about the meeting she hoped he would accept to. She figured he would after what he told India, but she wanted to hear it from him. 

He came from the bathroom and yawned, rubbing his face tiredly. His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, which would likely be undone by morning. He pulled the covers back and settled on the edge of the bed, intending on falling asleep right away. As always, there was at least two feet of space between them. 

“Chris,” Elsa said, looking over at him warily.

Chris looked back at her. “What?”

Elsa shifted a bit. “I need to ask you… about meeting with Tom again. I know you didn’t really stay the first time, but… I just want to try again. One more time, at least.”

Chris sighed, his eyes focused on the ring on his thumb which he fiddled with idly to distract himself. “Elsa, do you really think that’s going to work? Talking out our feelings like that? It obviously didn’t go well the first time.”

“Why won’t you do this for us? You know we need this; we’re falling apart, we’re always arguing, and I hate it!” 

Chris sent a glare over his shoulder, and she knew that she was speaking too loudly. “Because no matter what shit we do to fix this, it always fails. Taking a trip together didn’t work. Talking each day about what bothered us and what we wanted changed didn’t work. Why will this be any different?” He turned his attention back to the ring again. “I’m just saying, Elsa… I don’t have nearly enough faith in this guy. I don’t doubt his credentials or anything, just the fact that he’ll be able to help.”

“He _can_ help… he’s helped so many before us.”

“But they aren’t us.”

Elsa was silent, knowing that he was right. “All I’m saying is that we need to try one more time. Just one more. I’m begging you, Chris, for me.”

Chris scoffed. “We’re not going to get better.”

Elsa frowned, her temper briefly flaring. “Well, you sure made India believe that.”

She immediately noticed that he’d tensed.

She sighed softly before speaking again; it was better to let him know now that she’d been listening in on their conversation. “I didn’t know about her listening to our fights either. I don’t want her to suffer anymore. She’s changing, and not in a good way. I don’t want her childhood to be full of unhappy memories. She should be happy, just like any other child.”

Chris seemed to contemplate it, though unbeknownst to her, his mind was made up. “Fine,” he said, slipping beneath the covers and turning on his side, away from her. “For India.”

Elsa didn’t realize the words would hurt as much as they did.

\--------------------

At Elsa’s prompting, she wanted Chris to call Tom and schedule the next meeting. Chris had a feeling she’d already scheduled it, and instead wanted him to apologize for his behavior. He dreaded the call all day through work, and as soon as he got home, he wasn’t in a much better mood. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to go to the meeting, thinking that Tom would always be taking Elsa’s side based on his rash and rude behavior. 

Finding the number left out for him on the counter, he entered the number for the counseling office and waited, listening to the phone ring. A lady picked up, asking who Chris wanted to speak to. 

“Is Tom Hiddleston in…?”

 _“One moment please.”_ He was put on hold, and so he sat down on the sofa in front of the TV, waiting quietly waiting as soft music was played on the other line. He played with the ring again, wondering what he would even say. He figured that the conversation shouldn’t be planned like many of his other calls, but even now he felt almost exposed and a touch scared. He didn’t want to screw this up.

_“Hello, this is Tom Hiddleston. Can I ask who’s calling?”_

Chris sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Ah, Chris… Chris Hemsworth. We met last Thursday…”

 _“Ah, right…”_ Chris felt his face burn as heard his tone of recognition. Tom didn’t sound unhappy to hear from him, but he had almost hoped that it would have taken a few moments to remember him. _“How are you?”_

“I’m fine.” He shrugged. Today had been nothing special. “You?”

He heard a soft laugh from the other end. For some reason, it made him shiver. _“I’m quite good today, thank you for asking.”_

“Good.” He played with the hem of his shirt. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m calling…”

There was another laugh from the other end. _“That’s a good deduction.”_ Somehow, the sarcasm didn’t bother Chris. It actually made him smile. 

“Well, I was just wondering if we could schedule another meeting… for Elsa and I.” He scratched the back of his head, still somewhat awkward in the whole situation. 

_“Good! Good. Do you have a day in mind?”_

“Maybe we can just stick to the same days as usual? Thursday evenings?”

_“Perfect. This Thursday, or next…?”_

Chris was surprised; had Elsa planned on biweekly meetings? He supposed that it would be more convenient, but… for India, he reminded himself. “This Thursday, and every week after that.”

_“Wonderful, I’ll schedule you in. Is there anything else?”_

Chris was so tempted to just get out now while he had the chance. “Actually, there is one more thing…”

_“What is it…?”_

Almost immediately after Tom’s prompting, he felt no pressure. Chris was honestly surprised how easily the next words came out: “I wanted to apologize for my behavior last week. It was really out of line, and I’m sorry I’d raised my voice at you. I’m not usually that kind of person, especially around people I’ve only just met, but I’m going to do my best to not do it again. You didn’t deserve it in the first place.” He blinked after having said it, unable to believe that it came so naturally. With Elsa, he would have gotten angered by her prompting. A lot of things Elsa did would anger him, now that he thought about it… Chris brushed it off however. Tom was just… good at asking for what he wanted.

It didn’t even make sense in his head, but he went with it all the same.

_“Well, Chris, I appreciate that very much. It can take a lot of courage to say that. Thank you.”_

Chris smiled. “You don’t have to thank me; you deserved an apology.”

He swore he could hear Tom’s smile in his voice when he next spoke. _“All the same, I appreciate it. Not many people actually call to apologize for things like that… So I’m going to thank you, whether you like it or not.”_

Chris idly wondered what sort of things Tom dealt with in his meetings. He made it sound like a regular occurrence, and after a moment of thought, it made sense to him. Dealing with broken marriages every week must have been so stressful, and he wondered how Tom managed to stay so happy all the time. Bringing himself back to the conversation, he rolled his eyes at his teasing tone. “Very well, have it your way.”

 _“I will.”_ Chris smiled, and the line was silent. A comfortable silence all the same, though.

“Well, I guess I’d better let you go. I’m sure you’re busy.”

_“Oh, yes. The favorite couple of the week will come to entice me with more stories and claims of infidelity.”_

Chris laughed. “Well, you have fun with that.”

 _“You know I shall.”_ Tom’s voice was laced once again with mockery, and he spoke before Chris could cut in. _“I will see you this Thursday; give my best to your wife and daughter.”_

Chris was impressed that he’d remembered that they had a daughter. All the same, he nodded, even though Tom couldn’t see it. “I will. See you Thursday.” He hung up shortly after, taking a deep breath. He’d gotten it over with. Though, it wasn’t as much of a burden as he thought it would be. Talking to Tom was surprisingly pleasant; he wasn’t as fake as he’d led himself to believe all counselors to be. Tom seemed genuine and honest, a kind person with a warm soul. Chris felt himself almost looking forward to Thursday; perhaps this time around, he and Tom could get off on the right foot. 

\-------------------- 

When Thursday finally did come along, Chris felt nerves rising; not from what the meeting could hold, but simply because he wanted to make the right impression on Tom. He wasn’t a rage-filled man at all around others, and losing control rarely happened, but he figured Tom wouldn’t believe that after the first-impression he left. 

The counseling room was arranged a bit differently; instead of the sofa facing one chair opposite of the coffee table with another chair adjacent to the left of the sofa, the two small chairs were turned towards each other across from the sofa. It was a small change, but he deemed anything significant when it came to these types counseling sessions. Tom (who was on time unlike the last meeting) came in shortly after and greeted them both, sitting in one of the chairs while Elsa and Chris took the sofa. 

“We’re going to do something different this time; I’m going to talk to you one on one, so there is no provoking from either side and no pressure. I want to talk to each of you individually, just to get a clear, open-minded perspective. Elsa, if you would be so kind, I’d like to speak with Chris first. I’m going to have you go back to the lobby with Lillian up front. She’s a lovely woman, so I’m sure you can pass the time with her if you’d like.” Elsa smiled and nodded, standing and exiting the room. As soon as the door closed, Tom gestured to the chair angled towards his own. “I’m sure having a chat with someone much closer is a bit better than distanced by a coffee table.”

Chris felt a strange twist in his stomach at the notion of moving even closer to him, but he stood all the same, walking around the table and sitting in the chair. A long, slow sigh escaped him, and he shifted a bit, the silence somewhat heavy around them. Tom had his long legs folded elegantly as always, his hand poised and ready to take notes. Chris never mentioned anything, but it had always bothered him when he was taking notes. It made him feel more like an experiment than an actual person with problems and issues. 

“So,” Tom started, tapping the paper with his pen, “how did you and Elsa fall in love?”

Chris eyed him oddly. “Didn’t you get this from Elsa last week?”

“I heard it from her, yes. You merely went along with it. I want to hear it from you.” When Chris seemed somewhat reluctant on answering, he spoke again. “Allow me to ask you something first though: what do you think of this?”

Chris tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” he gestured around the room. “All of this. This meeting. Counseling. What do you think of it?”

He was silent for a long moment. Somehow, Tom knew not to speak up again this time. “I think, after this is done… we’ll eventually go back to the way things were.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what happens,” he said tiredly. “Elsa didn’t say anything that was untrue yesterday; I thought she was beautiful and wonderful. She had a kind heart and an amazing personality. I loved everything about her, from her eyes to her smile, and the way she laughed. We went through everything quickly… we didn’t date that long before we were married. We thought we were perfect for each other. Well,” he interjected himself, “ _I_ thought we were… When we got married, everything was great. We rarely fought, and when we did, it was over the stupidest things… which cake flavor to buy or what tie I should wear when I go to work. It wasn’t about the things we get so heated about now. All the things we fight over didn’t _matter_ back then, but as time went on, things just… changed.”

“She said the same sentence, you know… that things changed.” Tom looked at him expectantly when he looked away. “Something tells me you know what exactly has changed.” 

“… I do.”

Tom didn’t need to prompt him. It almost came pouring out.

“I don’t love her anymore. Not like I used to. She’s still all the same things she was when I met her; she hasn’t become cross or unpleasant. I just… I know it’s me. I don’t know if I jumped into things too quickly with her, of it I just didn’t truly love her like I thought I did, but… I can’t bring myself to fall in love with her again, because now we’re clashing against each other, and everything that we’ve tried so far has failed, and we go back to fighting. It’s affecting India now, for God’s sake, and I can’t do anything about it.” He immediately buried his face in his hands, growing frustrated; not with Tom or with Elsa, but purely with himself.

Tom didn’t write anything down. He stared, not in shock, but in curiosity. “So you believe you can’t be fixed.”

“No,” he breathed, and the words somehow simultaneously lifted a weight from his shoulders and added a new one in its place. “But there isn’t anything I can do. Not in the situation I’m in. We’re married, I know she’s still in love with me, and then there’s India… I don’t want to bring her – either of them – any more harm than I already have.”

“Chris…” Tom reached forward and rested a hand on his forearm. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t foresee this.”

He never shook his hand off. “I know I didn’t, but I feel horrible. Like I could have done something different.”

“You can’t change that now. You have to keep walking forward and take life as it comes. But somewhere along the way, you have to say something. You need to tell Elsa the truth. Right now, your life is dictated by your fear of hurting your family and your confliction by not being in love with Elsa anymore. Some people aren’t always meant to be married; it’s difficult at times for some to accept this, simply because the idea of ‘until death do us part’ is a mentality that’s tough to rid of. But others can see that maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

“And then there are people like me: stuck in the middle.”

“You’re not in the middle, Chris. You just have to decide.” He leaned back, slowing drawing his hand away. “The decision is the hard part. Anyone can say they are or are not meant to be together. Anyone can get counseling and take classes and try to fix what is or isn’t broken. But making the truly committed choice and telling Elsa what’s honestly in your mind? That’s what takes true heart.”

He scoffed. "You make it sound so easy. So, what, you want me to tell my wife that I've lied to her for the past year? That I've lied to her every morning and every night? That when I kiss her, I don't mean it? You think it's so easy telling me what to do and what to say. You don’t even know the half of it! I can't just tell her that I don't love her, it would break her heart, and I just can't do that to her."

Stoic yet somehow still empathetic, he simply said, “I would never give such advice without knowing it personally.”

There was a silence that fell over the room. Chris seemed to take in what Tom said, and Tom – patient as ever – waited without a word, his eyes averted to his notepad. Perhaps unintentionally, the topic had been shifted to him, and Chris couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he’d gone through to have experience in something such as that. He knew the conversation wouldn’t get anywhere even if he had brought it up, so he left it as it was. He would never expect it to stay in his mind for weeks and months to come. 

He spent some time thinking about Tom’s words; that all he had to do was decide. The notion seemed ridiculous at first, but when he gave it more focus, he realized that Tom could be right. Chris had accepted that he didn’t love Elsa. He wasn’t happy with her. Their family turmoil was now affecting their daughter, yet all this time, he stayed. He wasn’t happy, but he’d made no decision to act on that. 

“Are you saying I should leave Elsa, then…?”

“No. I’m saying that it would be wise to confess what’s in your heart. Whether you think it or not, you’re likely hurting her more by not telling her the truth. If she loves you as much as you and I frankly believe, then she could very well understand and can move on from there.”

“What will happen after that? After I tell her?”

Tom sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to say that there’s no knowing.”

“I figured…” Chris sighed. “But y’know… I don’t think you’re entirely wrong…”

“About?”

“Trying to decide. To tell Elsa the truth.”

“I should hope so,” Tom smiled playfully. “Otherwise, I may as well take that degree from the wall and toss it.”

Chris gave a small laugh, appreciating the way he alleviated the tension. “Mm. You still haven’t won me over, though.”

“Oh, really?” Tom grinned now, folding his arms. The notepad seemed forgotten at this point.

“Yup; still a cynic. Believing your voodoo language and your magic words would be outrageous.” Chris wiggled his fingers at Tom with an expression of mock-suspicion, and it only served to make him laugh aloud.

“Oh, of course, psychology is nothing but madness; you’ve seen through my rouse!”

“Not as dull as you thought I was, huh?”

“Oh Chris, I never thought you were dull.” He reached out and placed his hand on his arm again, squeezing briefly with a fond smile.

Their laughter diminished, and soon it was silent. There was a meaningful look passed between them, but neither of them knew what exactly it meant. Chris felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and something inside of him hoped Tom was feeling the same thing. 

Tom pulled his hand away again and looked at his notebook, straightening it out again, running a hand through his hair. He looked up again and smiled warmly at him after a moment. “Well, I think this was good.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess.”

Tom flashed him a grin. “Don’t be so modest.”

Chris rolled his eyes, and Tom stood. “Well, this concludes our session; I don’t suppose you’re that into gossip, so perhaps Lillian isn’t a good match for you as a way to pass the time.” Chris stood finally, smiling.

“I’ll find something to do.”

“Good.” He led him towards the door, but stopped when his hand was wrapped around the doorknob. “I’m glad we got to speak like this, Chris.”

Chris wasn’t sure if he resented his heart for beating a bit faster. “I am too. I think you’ve really helped me out.”

“Please remember… I’m not saying that telling Elsa what’s on your mind will end things. It will hurt her, that much I can say. But for some couples, hurt can bring them closer, make them stronger. I hope the same can be said one day about the two of you.”

Chris nodded, deciding for once not to comment. Tom left it at that, opening the door for him and telling him to send Elsa back when he found her. He did just that, and as soon as she was on her way, he pulled out his phone, deciding to look through emails and make a few calls. His mind however was on what had just happened: everything just… came out. It was so easy to speak to Tom about anything that was on his mind. It had been an entire year since he’d come to terms with no longer being in love with Elsa, and he’d known Tom for just a week (having only met once, no less) and he just spoke his mind right then without even having to think about it.

Perhaps it was because Tom was a stranger; not so much that speaking to him was uncomfortable, but just unknown enough that he could share his heart and mind without fear of being judged. To him, Tom was just a man who knew not one thing about him, and somehow, Chris liked that the most. He couldn’t gossip to Chris’ other friends. He couldn’t talk behind his back. He just took in what he said, told him what he thought was best, and supported him through it all. 

For some reason, being around Tom felt different: different than being with his friends, with his family, or even with Elsa. Chris couldn’t hope to explain it, despite having a vague idea already. All he knew for certain was that as he was sat in the lobby, all he could think about was Tom’s warm touch on his skin, vaguely feeling a hint of warmth that remained.

Tom called Chris back inside after about twenty minutes. He immediately noticed Elsa’s red eyes, and he averted his gaze, feeling guilty. When he sat beside her, he rested his hand on her wrist, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. He wasn’t quite sure what else to do. He just wished he didn’t have to see her cry so much anymore.

“Well, after talking with you both, I believe that I’ve come to some conclusions of my own. I’ve given each of you some advice that I hope you will instigate on your own,” he looked over at Chris then, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he meant by that, “and we will meet next week to talk again.” 

Elsa nodded. “Thank you, Tom.” They all stood and Elsa left first, Chris staying behind a moment. He wanted to say something more, but even he wasn’t sure what it was. Tom just stood there, a warm smile on his face, and Chris felt a shiver travel down his spine. He gave a small wave and quickly left, catching up with Elsa and leaving the building. The entire ride home, he wondered how on Earth he would tell Elsa that he didn’t love her anymore (that was if he actually decided to go through with it). There seemed to be no possible way to do it without hurting her. He wondered then if consulting further with Tom about how to do it would be a good idea.

He certainly didn’t mind that.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning came without event, but Chris’ mind was swimming in confusion and uncertainty. Though he’d confided with Tom and agreed that it was best to tell Elsa that he was no longer in love with her, he was having doubts. This wasn’t something he could just come out and say like it was no big deal: it could completely change their relationship, and the thought scared the hell out of him. Thinking back on the meeting, he was glad that Tom was honest enough to say that he wouldn’t know what the outcome would be when he told her. Chris had a feeling that Tom feared what would happen just as much as he did. All the same, Tom wasn’t the one who had to do the telling. He could sit back and wait as Chris’ honesty either made them stronger or completely demolished their entire marriage.

He sincerely didn’t hope for the latter.

To be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what he wanted, and that in itself was an issue. Shouldn’t he want their marriage fixed? Maybe he was set in his ways and figured his unhappiness was permanent. Tom could literally be their way out, and he was still reluctant. Sure, he was easy to talk to (and easy to look at, Chris wouldn’t deny), but was that going to make their marriage what it used to be? Maybe Chris’ doubts were what held them back. 

So how did he tell her? He guessed that Tom wanted him to figure that on his own. He couldn’t give him _all_ of the answers, after all. Would he just say it and hope for the best? Call her? Leave a note? The last two seemed a bit cowardly, though. Chris wasn’t big on confrontation, but with Elsa, it just happened. He couldn’t control it. One word between them could spark an argument and they would be shouting at each other again. However, as soon as he thought of their fighting, he remembered seeing India after their fight, seeing the way she was so reclusive and distant. Even thinking about her made his heart ache. He was doing this for her. He wanted her happy, not depressed over his and Elsa’s problems. She was never the cause for any of them, but if she was anything like Chris, she would start to blame herself. It was a nasty habit Chris had, and he had no doubt that India could very well have it. If anything, he never wanted her to feel that way: like it was her fault. He would try to fix everything for her. But was that the only reason? Was he doing _anything_ because of Elsa? It made him wonder just what exactly was holding him back from telling her the truth if she was no longer a key part of his heart’s decisions. 

Telling her could get a range of reactions. He knew she would cry; that much was certain. She could yell, tell him to leave, force him out of her life. It didn’t bother him as much as it should have. What scared him most of all – and he would never admit this to Elsa – was her taking India away. If he never saw his little girl again… he didn’t know what he would do. He’d risk anything and everything to make sure he could see her.

At least that was the worst case scenario. It didn’t mean it was unlikely to happen, though.

Making his way back from work, his stomach was filled with butterflies and his grip on the steering wheel was tight. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to say what needed to be said. But the longer he waited, the worse the outcome would be. He hoped he was making the right decision.

He had arrived home just minutes before Elsa did. As soon as he’d discarded his suit jacket, he was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, running over how he would say it. Did he just blurt it out? Maybe start out with an anecdote? Either way, it was going to hurt; he didn’t want to drag it out.

“Hey,” she said as she walked in, flashing him a grin before setting her purse on the counter. She removed her shoes and unclipped her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. It was rather long, and seemed a few shades darker than he remembered; he hadn’t noticed it for a while now.

“Hey.” It was obvious that something was on his mind. He didn’t put much effort into trying to hide it. 

She looked back at him and frowned, still holding her bag that she intended to take to their room. She approached him, concerned. “Is something wrong?” 

Chris took a deep breath, averting his gaze. Now he felt terrible. Elsa had done hardly anything wrong, and now that she had come home in a good mood, he had to go and ruin it. “I need to tell you something… Maybe when you put everything away.” He gestured to the bag in her arm. 

“… Sure, okay.” Confused, she took her bag and made her way out of the kitchen. Chris could practically feel the nerves rising within himself, and he felt temptation to back out. Within moments, he’d quickly convinced himself that it wasn’t the right time. He cursed to himself and began pacing again, hoping to come up with an excuse. He wasn’t given much time, however; Elsa came back, her worry having apparently intensified. A silence fell over them as she waited for Chris to start. 

Chris took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t really… know how to say this, so I guess I’m just gonna say it.” He was silent again for a long time, until nearly a minute later, he spoke up again. “Elsa, I think… I think you need to know that—”

The doorbell rang.

Elsa bit her lip, looking back at the door, then lifted a hand at Chris, gesturing to him that she would be just a moment. Chris, almost relieved that he could get another chance to collect himself, nodded. Around the corner, he listened as she opened the door for who was presumably the babysitter, bringing India back. Elsa thanked her and sent her on her way after a few thank-you’s were exchanged. India, who was being carried towards her room on Elsa’s hip, beamed at Chris. “Daddy!”

He gave a weak smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Mommy, mommy, I wanna show daddy something I drawed today!”

“Uh,” she looked at Chris, who only gave her a helpless look. Now wasn’t the best time. “Maybe a little later, alright? We need to talk about something…”

Her smile was gone, and Chris just watched as the happiness vanished from her entirely. “But… Please…?” She begged, even clasping her hands together and putting on the best pout she could manage. Elsa sighed, glancing over at Chris.

Finally, he smiled, extending his arms out to her. “Alright, show me what you drew.”

Elsa walked towards him and passed India over to Chris who held her against his chest. Elsa reached into India’s backpack to grab the rolled up piece of paper, handing it to her without peeking, as per India’s strict rules. “I made this,” she said, untying the string and unrolling the paper, showing it directly to Chris.

On the paper, there was a picture of the three of them: stick figures, oddly (yet adorably) proportioned and colored messily with crayon. They had big smiles on their faces and were all holding hands, India between the two of them. Above them, in bright purple, she had written “ar hapy famlee”. Even despite the misspellings, he understood what it meant. India seemed to be waiting for a reaction, but he was absolutely speechless, unsure what to even say. 

“See, this is mommy, and this is you, and this is me!” She grinned up at Chris, pointing to each figure. “Our happy family.” 

“I…” He started, but nothing else would come. Thinking on his feet, he smiled. “It’s gorgeous, darling.” He kissed her forehead and took the picture in his hand, his other arm supporting her easily. 

“The man is gonna fix things, so I drawed this, because we’re gonna be happy again.” She smiled sweetly at him, her small hands clutching at Chris’ shirt. Elsa had at some point come around behind him, and she awed at it, marveling to India about how beautiful it was. Chris felt her hand on his back and he tensed slightly, uncomfortable with the touch. He would have done something about it normally, but his eyes were focused only on the drawing, unable to say anything more. His head was thrown back into a state of confliction.

He knew then that he couldn’t tell Elsa. He just couldn’t. It wouldn’t only break her heart, but also India’s. He would never be able to live with himself knowing that he’d crushed India’s hopes like that. She was expecting everything to work out, and Chris himself had told Elsa that he was doing this for her, and just for her. How could he let his daughter down now?

“Here, daddy’s gonna hang that on the fridge while you go put your things away, okay?” Elsa took India from his arms and set her down, shooing her along. She turned back to Chris, gently taking the picture from him. The entire atmosphere of the room had changed. It was like there was no backing out now, and the pressure of that in itself filled Chris with dread. Sparing a glance at Elsa, she appeared a bit more stressed than before. Maybe she understood what he was going through?

Though, she wasn’t possibly infatuated with their marriage counselor, so maybe she didn’t _entirely_ understand. 

“Chris…?” She asked hesitantly.

Chris looked at her, relaxing a bit. He’d only realized then that she’d taken her hand off of him. He hated to admit to himself that he preferred it that way. “Yeah?”

“You wanted to tell me something?”

“Oh, uh,” his mind was racing, now determined on not telling her. She couldn’t know. It had to wait, just a little bit longer. “I just… got news that we may be getting a big client in the next few weeks.” It came out awkwardly, the words tripping over one another. He continued when she didn’t say anything. “So I just felt you should know…”

Elsa brightened after a pause, smiling and reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. It didn’t feel the same as Tom’s did. “That’s so great! I’m glad, Chris, really.” 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling back to her. It felt weird to lie to her. But it wasn’t hard, either.

“I thought it was something… I don’t know… worse, I guess.” She breathed out a sigh of relief, and Chris nodded, his mind absent from it. 

“I’m sure that kinda shook you up a bit…” She continued, gesturing over towards the doorway, and Chris knew she was referring to India and the picture.

“A bit,” he said, honestly. He looked down at the drawing again, turning to the fridge and grabbing a magnet to attach it to the front, just as Elsa said they would do. There were a number of pictures on there, but none stood out more to him than that one. It was a promise India had thrown on them. One that Chris knew couldn’t be kept. 

“Me too,” she said, trailing off a bit. Chris felt she had expected something more from him, but he wouldn’t indulge in it. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Just looking at it made him feel uncomfortable, almost nauseated, knowing the truth of it.

He was the first to leave, feeling simultaneously exposed and claustrophobic where he was. Making a quick getaway to his office, he closed the door behind him and sat in his chair, running his hands through his hair, groaning to himself. “Damn it,” he muttered, letting out a long, slow breath. Just when he had it figured, everything was distorted and fucked up again.

He pulled his tie loose and pulled it over his head, tossing it behind him on the adjacent desk. He undid the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, getting comfortable. He tied his hair back in a loose bun and decided to spend some time on his work, distracting himself from his own thoughts. They would be the death of him one day, that much he knew. 

\--------------------

Later that evening at dinner, Chris didn’t make any sort of appearance until India came into his office herself, telling her that Elsa was becoming a bit impatient. She seemed a bit shy, clutching at the bear in her arms, her eyes looking up at Chris over its head. Chris frowned and turned away from his work – three hours had already passed, apparently. Opening his arms to her, he beckoned her over. At her hesitance, his arms slowly fell. A weight settled on his chest. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged, twirling a bit, her body turning back and forth, her eyes on the floor. “Nothing,” she said. 

“You aren’t gonna climb on daddy’s lap and see what he’s working on…?” After a moment, she smiled softly and approached him slowly, climbing up carefully and settling on his legs. She peered out at the papers spread about his workspace. Chris hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He never wanted her to hesitate like that ever again. 

“What’s that?” She asked, and Chris smiled.

“Which one?”

“… All of it.” 

Chris laughed, kissing her cheek loudly and nuzzling her adoringly. She laughed happily, kicking her legs idly. “I’m sure if I tried to tell you, sweetheart, you’d be late for dinner by about three days.”

“Tell me anyways, daddy,” she said. Knowing that Elsa wouldn’t be keen on waiting much longer, he stood from his seat, swiftly lifting India up and turning her in his hands, making her cry out in joy. He lifted her over his head and set her on his shoulders, her arms instinctively coming around his head. She was still giggling as she clung to him, and he grinned back at her, not minding at all the way it messed up his hair a bit. 

“Well, I work at a publishing company. We print things that people read, like the magazines mom buys or the books I read in my office. You’ll be reading soon, too.”

“Can I read the books you and mommy do?” She looked at him hopefully, but he only laughed fondly. 

“No, you’ll start with books for little kids, like you.” He carried her down the hallway and towards the kitchen.

India pouted. “I wanna read the grown-up books!”

“Maybe one day, sweetheart.” He set her in her chair, kneeling down beside her. “You wouldn’t like them anyways.”

“I would too!” She said defiantly.

“How about this,” he said in a lower voice, almost like telling her a secret, “I’ll ready you the books I read as your bedtime story tonight, okay?”

She paused for a moment, then grinned, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said with a grin, grabbing her head in a play-rough manner and kissing her hair, ruffling it with his hand when he stood. She shrieked at that and made a loud whining sound, but both her and Chris were grinning like fools. 

“As soon as you two are done playing around, dinner is ready.” She brought over the dish she’d prepared and got drinks for each of them, smiling as she had sat down next to Chris. She smiled at him softly, and he returned her smile, though he knew that her happiness was based on a lie. It didn’t sit well in his stomach.

They ate in silence at first, but Elsa soon asked India about what she did during the day, and Chris occasionally joined the conversation every so often. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right then, and another argument sparked because he wasn’t listening wasn’t something he wanted India to endure. India talked about the things she drew and the new kids she played with, already making friends with them. It was a relief to Chris that she was as sociable as she was.

Halfway through dinner, Chris felt Elsa’s hand on his left arm. The touch surprised him, and he looked at it pointedly, his brows drawn together. She never did anything like this; at least, not recently. They hadn’t been very keen on touching one another since their arguing escalated, and her cold hand on his arm wasn’t something he thoroughly enjoyed. His discomfort grew as she stroked her thumb idly, making him shift in his seat. Something about this simultaneously made his stomach knot and his anger rise. Why he was angry, he didn’t know. He only knew that he wanted it to stop. 

Willing to risk it, he scooped a few stray noodles of pasta from the corner of his plate and lifted them to his mouth, tilting his fork slightly and letting some of them fall onto his trousers. He feigned surprise sat back in his chair. “Damn it,” he muttered, setting his fork down and pulling his arm free from her hold to grab a napkin. India had been far too wrapped up in her story to hear him, but Elsa took notice and frowned. “Something wrong?”

“I just made a small mess… Just keep talking, India, I’m still listening.” He sent a smile her way and wiped at the spaghetti with the napkin, standing from the chair to get a damp cloth. A weight was lifted from his shoulders and he listened as India continued as though she wasn’t even interrupted in the first place, his mind pointedly ignoring the fact that he’d once again lied to Elsa. It was the last thing he wanted to think about as it was. 

\--------------------

Chris had retired to his office after dinner, passing the time again as he usually did once he’d finished his work. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that he’d inadvertently pushed Elsa away at dinner; it was just another thing that made his stomach knot uncomfortably. He knew then that he wasn’t making any sort of real effort to better their relationship. If anything, he figured that he was only making things worse. 

He wondered what Tom would say if he told him this. Tom always had some sort of term or cause for Chris’ actions, even if he didn’t know him. It was astounding, since they had only met just a number of times, yet Chris was eyeing his phone again, thinking of calling him. He shook his head, focusing on one of the papers that littered his desk. Tom was probably the last person he ought to be thinking about right now. 

Chris found his mind drifting to Tom more often than not, especially in his time alone. Whether that was unfortunate or not, he wasn’t sure. He could practically hear Tom’s voice in his head, feel his hand on his arm, imagine his smile that could light up a room… sometimes he thought about Tom in different ways than simply sitting in a chair and acting as his counselor. His eyes briefly flickered to the door, which was closed securely, and he felt it safe enough to let his mind wander.

He wouldn’t deny it, not to himself: he thought about Tom much more than he should, in more _ways_ than he should. He had only met him just over three weeks ago and already he was plaguing his mind. That one touch in the last meeting had truly thrown his conflicted mind for a loop, and he craved more of it. He wanted Tom’s hands on his chest, roaming wherever they pleased, clutching at him and scratching him, laying claim on him…

“Fuck,” he muttered, but it certainly wasn’t out of annoyance. He closed his eyes for only a few moments, and he already was imagining taking Tom into his bed, removing all of his clothes one piece at a time and having his way with him. Not fast or wild, though; definitely slow. He would take care of him, just as he’d taken care of everyone before him. In his head, Tom would comply to all of it, too; perhaps it was just his wild imagination, but something told him that Tom would be nothing less than perfection. 

And there was another thing. The urge to kiss him was driving him insane. Tom had thin, yet somehow gorgeous lips, and Chris wanted nothing more than to kiss him senseless. He wanted to taste every inch of his skin. He wanted to run his hands through his hair and watch him as he came. He wanted bite at his neck and mark him as his own. But he didn’t want to do everything: he wanted to feel Tom’s slender hands on his back and his long legs around his waist, too. He wanted to listen to him moan his name and cry out when he made him feel good.

Chris bit his lip, not even sparing a glance at what he knew was there. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about things like this, but he’d rarely added so much detail to it. It hadn’t ever felt so real like this before. 

He’d never wanted someone so badly. 

He cursed beneath his breath again, intending to stand to take care of his issue in the adjacent bathroom, when there was a knock on the door.

He stared in absolute horror as Elsa came in quietly, smiling softly as she walked in. “Is it a bad time?” She asked, and Chris immediately faced the desk and pulled his chair up as far as it would go, his chest nearly pressed to the cherry colored wood. “N-no, it’s fine…”

“Good,” she said. She made her way across the room and stood behind him, smiling down at his work. Chris didn’t look back at her – both out of embarrassment and discomfort – and played idly with the corner of one of the pieces of paper, wondering what she wanted. He didn’t ask outright, not wanting to spark an argument, but that thought would soon be dashed. 

“Dinner went well, don’t you think?” Soon there was a hand on Chris’ shoulder, and he tried his very hardest not to tense up. Why was she so insistent on touching him lately?

“It was just dinner… was it supposed to go badly or something?”

He heard her sigh very softly, but she didn’t make it obvious. “I mean, it was nice. Eating together and getting along.” Her hand had now moved closer towards his neck. He resisted shuddering.

At least he didn’t have to worry about her seeing his ‘problem’ anymore.

“I guess…” He shrugged lightly. They stayed like that, quiet, and Chris swore he hadn’t taken a single breath for over a minute. Suddenly, Elsa leant over and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, her chin in the crook of his neck. Chris couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, okay,” he shifted and she took it as a sign to take a step back, and soon Chris was standing again, facing her, trying his hardest not to ask what the hell she was doing and to just move back. “What are you doing?” He asked, though it came out a bit more sharply than he’d intended.

She was flustered, looking like a deer in the headlights. “I just… I don’t know, I…”

“Why do you keep on touching me?”

He already saw tears building in her eyes. In that moment, it somehow enraged him more than gave him a warning to calm down. “I don’t… Chris, I just—”

“Can you stop?!” The words had come out faster than he could control them.

She was silent for a moment, soon taking a step back, her eyes drawn to the floor. “I just wanted to…”

He became impatient. “Wanted to what?!”

“I wanted to get back to what we used to be! Where I didn’t have to ask for your damn permission to touch you or something!”

He looked at her in brief disbelief. “I never said you had to ask, Elsa!”

“You sure as hell act like it!” She had walked out before he could say anything else, and as soon as she was gone, he let out a long breath.

Sometimes, he wished he wasn’t able to speak.

\------------------

They had been left in silence for at least two days unless it was absolutely necessary to say something. Chris wondered if he’d somehow made his wish a reality, and now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk it back or not. No fighting meant no arguments, right? That was what he figured. 

Chris came into the kitchen to grab something to eat before going into work, while Elsa put India’s lunchbox together while she was at the babysitter’s. She was sat on the counter, kicking her legs idly as she waited silently. Chris smiled at her, kissing her forehead as he tied his tie. India reached her hands out, asking, “Can I tie it?”

“Do you know how to tie a tie, sweetheart?” He smiled knowingly.

India paused, then spoke slowly, obviously lying as she said, “Yes…”

“Well then, why am I tying it?” He stepped forward and squatted down so she could reach it easily. She looked at it for a moment before taking both ends in her hand, evening them out before tying an overhand knot. Chris laughed softly as he watched her, but instantly quieted himself when she glanced up at him and dealt a light kick to his chest. He managed to stop from laughing, but holding the smile back was impossible. 

When she finally managed a double knot, she nodded in approval, grinning. “There!” Chris looked down and grinned, both amused and proud of his little girl. 

“It’s perfect, thank you.” He hugged her close and stepped back again, going to grab a bowl for some cereal. Elsa was deathly quiet, packing things almost robotically. It was once again uncomfortable, but he remained silent. When she poured a bowl of cereal for India, she pulled out the milk from the fridge and poured it in her bowl, turning to put it back in the fridge. He stepped around the island to fetch it from her. “Hold that?”

She feigned not hearing him and put it back, shutting the door firmly. Closing India’s lunchbox and putting it in her backpack, she picked her up and balanced her on her hip. “Come on, India, let’s go.”

Confused at Elsa’s rush, she waved over her mother’s shoulder. “Bye, daddy,” India called, and Chris had no hope of reaching her in time before Elsa had gone out the door. He waved slowly, helpless and unable to say anything back, and soon the door had shut. 

He couldn’t help feeling like it wouldn’t be the last time he’d watch Elsa carry India away from him like that.

The thought didn’t leave his mind for the rest of the week. Just that image playing over and over, Elsa’s back to him as she walked out the door, India only doing what her mother asked of her, simply because she didn’t know any better. He knew then that, despite his doubts, Elsa would not hesitate to take India from him if she deemed it necessary. 

When Thursday came around, he knew that he didn’t want her at the meeting. Not out of some harbored resentment for what he was certain would happen, but simply to spend just some time getting answers without her there. The thought of her sitting beside him as he poured his heart out made him cringe. He knew he couldn’t force her to stay home, but he’d quickly found a way around that. He left her a note that morning before she’d gone to work, telling her that Tom had called and had cancelled the meeting due to a personal emergency. He was certain that if there was someone Elsa couldn’t be angered with, it was Tom. 

For safety measures, he left a few hours early, not wanting to raise Elsa’s suspicions that he’d lied about Tom cancelling. He merely told her that he was going out, and she said to have fun, though her tone suggested that he may as well rot in a ditch.

Perhaps his personal interpretation was a bit harsh.

He considered going to a bar, but he didn’t want to come off as possibly alcoholic to Tom. Somehow, Tom’s opinion of him was highly important to him, and he didn’t want to give off a bad impression (not like the first one was that great to start with...). He decided to stop by a coffee shop that wasn’t too far from the counseling office, ordering himself a decaf coffee and a small apple tart, hoping that cliché comfort food would make him appear less miserable.

He spent a great deal of time thinking to himself, wondering what he would do, and trying to figure if talking things out with Elsa would fix the recent silence. It was his fault. He’d gotten angry again, but this time Elsa bit back. She rarely did, and if so, it was never that bad. She was the more practical one, anyways. Chris may as well have been an ACME dynamite kit.

He looked at his watch, sighing when he realized that he still had another forty-five minutes before the meeting. Time didn’t feel like going any faster, did it? He looked out the window, resting his chin in his hand. 

“Chris?”

He looked around for a moment, confused and baffled at the fact that someone around here could possibly know him, but the sight before him answered his question quickly. He blinked in surprise as he watched Tom give a friendly wave. He didn’t know if this was good fortune or a stroke of bad luck. “Uh, Tom… hi.”

Tom grinned that bright and shining grin he could hardly resist and strode over to him, shedding his coat and resting it over his arm. “I really didn’t expect to see you here.” He gestured to the seat, asking, “May I…?”

“Yeah, no, go right ahead.” He sat up straight now, willing himself to stop stuttering over his words. He’d hate to make a fool of himself. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, now couldn’t I?” He laughed, draping the coat over the back of the chair and sitting down. “I come here almost every day. It’s basically a part of my daily ritual for coming to work now. Plus, it’s cheaper than Starbucks.”

“Yeah, it is,” he laughed with him, loving the sensation he got when Tom laughed. It must have been the most perfect sound he’d heard in all his life.

“So what about you? What brings you here?” For a moment, it seemed odd, talking to Tom like any other person. Not uncomfortable, though. Just out of the norm.

“Oh, well, I had a bit of time to kill, and I saw this place on the way, so I figured I’d stop by.”

Tom frowned for a moment. “You mean on the way to our appointment?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah.” 

He didn’t realize how easily it had all come out before Tom asked. “Is Elsa not coming, then?”

“Oh, uh,” he shrugged, brushing it off, “no, she had to work. Later. She worked longer than usual today, so she couldn’t… yeah.”

No words could describe how utterly pitiful his lie sounded.

“Chris,” he sighed, and for a fleeting moment Chris could have sworn that Tom nearly reached out for his arm again; his heart sank when he stopped himself. “You know you can tell me what’s going on, right? We may not be in my office, but I am still very much here for you.”

Chris forced a laugh, brushing off the serious tone. “Yeah, I know…”

Tom wasn’t convinced, but he stood, intending on ordering something for himself. “I’ll be right back, Chris. When I get back, I really urge you to tell me the truth.” He stepped around the table and placed a hand on Chris’ shoulder as he passed. His fingers lingered for a moment or two as he walked away, and Chris had to rub his face to hide the rising heat to his cheeks.

As Chris collected himself, Tom spared a glance back at him from the opposite end of the café, having ordered his mocha. A frown was set on his face, unsure of what exactly Chris wasn’t telling him, and why he was hesitant to say anything. Chris seemed more than willing about sharing his concerns and fears with him, but now something was making him hold back. 

Chris’ situation bothered him, more so than any other patient he’d had. He went into the field because of the events of his own parents’ divorce, and now it was like watching a replay. He hadn’t experienced it before like he thought he would have, but now that it was here, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to help them, he really did, but Chris’ admitted thoughts about believing that it wouldn’t work had him thinking that the lack of faith in itself would be what brought them apart. Tom couldn’t change the way Chris thought if he tried. He’d love to bring another couple back together, but he also knew when a marriage was far beyond saving. 

His name was called and he accepted his mocha, thanking the barista before making his way back to their table. He sat down in front of Chris, taking a sip of his drink. The warmth was pleasant, making him hum happily, and he watched as Chris smiled at him. He returned his smile, pointedly ignoring how Chris’ smile had suddenly made him feel warm all over.

There was a short silence, a comfortable one, with Chris tracing the grains of the wood on the table and Tom watching him contently, not wanting to pressure him again. He didn’t like asking for answers; he’d rather be given them when he earned them. 

Chris, after another few minutes, spoke up again. He didn’t want to spend time with Tom like this in silence. “We had a fight, last week.” He sighed long and slow, still not lifting his gaze. “She didn’t… well, I mean… you know already that we haven’t really… been _close_ in a long time, and… she just started touching me. Not in any wrong way, just… putting her hands on me and trying to get close with me, and…” He ran a hand through his hair tiredly. “I snapped. I don’t want to be so upset by it, and I hate how it bothers me the way it does, but I can’t _help it_.”

“What do you feel when she does something like that?”

“Just… anger. Not rage, but more like annoyance. I don’t want her touching me. I don’t know why, I just don’t. I shouldn’t be feeling that way in the first place…”

“Chris, you can’t control how you feel. There is no should or shouldn’t when it comes to emotions; you feel them whether you like it or not. No one can blame you for what you cannot control.”

Chris smiled softly. Tom could clearly see the exhaustion in his face. “I know… Well, I understand what you mean. But I still feel horrible… I feel guilty. I feel like I’m committing a crime or something when I feel this way about her. I feel like now, I love her even less than before, and I didn’t love her at all. I’m starting to… I don’t know, maybe… resent her.” He shook his head. “No, it’s not that…”

Tom reached out finally, resting his hand on Chris’ upper arm. “It’s alright if you don’t know what you feel. It’s natural.”

Chris looked up at him finally. “I want to know what I’m feeling, though. I want to know why I can’t seem to get along with her anymore. I wish I could stop being so angry with her over the smallest things and taking it out on her, making her so upset and causing her to cry and feel so much pain…”

“I know,” he said empathetically. “I really do, Chris, honestly. It’s not easy.”

“What happened with you?” Chris asked, almost hopefully. Tom knew he was seeking an answer through his own experience. 

“It doesn’t matter; we’re here to talk about you.” 

“I know, I know, but… I just want to know.” Chris gave him a pleading look, and Tom bit his lip. He shouldn’t. He honestly shouldn’t. But a part of him wanted to. It didn’t help when he’d added, “Please…?”

Tom relented, pulling his hand back and folding his arms. “It just… didn’t work,” he started simply, shrugging almost helplessly. “I really thought they were the one, y’know? I didn’t rush into the relationship, really, since I’d learned my lesson from the past… and after three years, you kinda figure that they’re the one for you. We even moved in together, and by that, I mean we bought a place of our own. We basically settled, and everything was going great. After a while, though, I guess….things started to change.

I don’t blame myself, nor do I blame them. We both changed. We were still young, fresh out of university, and ambitious. We had so much in common when we first started seeing each other, but after time, things became different… For instance, we started hanging out with different people. I advanced on in my studies and acquainted myself with the professionals of my field, while they remained with their friends from university… not the best ones, mind you. I still enjoyed their company, but I was no longer in that phase of my life. I didn’t want a part of it, while they didn’t want to be out of it.

All the same… we became different people with different dreams. Our parting was mutual. It was painful at first, because there was a time when I truly loved them… but by the end, I didn’t have the same connection with them.”

“How did you tell them?”

Tom took a sip of his mocha. He didn’t need clarifying about what Chris wanted to know. “That _really_ doesn’t matter. You will do it your own way, as I did it mine.”

“Tom,” Chris pleaded, and for the first time, he dared to reach out and grasp his wrist. Tom stared down in surprise for a moment before looking up. He appeared conflicted, unsure whether it was wise. He already felt he’d spoken too much, but with Chris, it felt natural to talk to him. He hadn’t spoken about that in so long… 

Again, he sighed, and the words came spilling out: “I sat them down one day. I didn’t even know what would happen, but my heart was pounding and my voice was shaking, and I just… started talking. I didn’t know what would come out. I told them how wonderful they had been and how impactful they were on my life, how I would always love them in some way… and then, I just said it.”

“Just like that…?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Just like that.”

Chris turned his gaze to the grain of the table again. He wasn’t sure if Tom’s words had helped him or not. “I don’t think I could do that… I couldn’t tell Elsa when the time came. I was about to, I think, but…” He shook his head. “It got a bit complicated.”

“I’m not saying it’s easy, and I’m not saying that I’m expecting you to tell her within the week. I must have backed out half a dozen times before I’d convinced myself that it was time. I’m just saying that, the longer you wait, the harder it may be.”

“Why would it be harder?”

“Because you’ve known the truth longer, and you never told them.”

Chris ‘ah’ed in understanding. That was his confliction about telling her: if he spoke his mind, she would be upset, she would be hurt, and he was certain that everything would be over. If he waited longer, sparing her the pain, she would still be upset. Likely more so than before, since Chris had been leading her on about things going well. He wished there were some way he didn’t have to tell her. He didn’t want to have to go through it, he didn’t want to put Elsa through it, and he definitely didn’t want India caught up in it. 

Tom spoke up again. “What’s holding you back?” 

He didn’t speak for a while, uncertain, but at the same time, sure. Everything was in his head, but somehow he didn’t doubt that he would be right. “She’ll take India away.”

Tom frowned again, his heart aching at his words. “Chris, she won’t—”

“She _will_ , Tom, and there isn’t anything I can do. She’s going to take India away, and I…” He felt it then: tears rising faster than he could control them. His throat felt constrict and he could barely take in a single breath. His heart raced madly in his chest. He spoke shakily, “I wish this wasn’t happening. I wish there was a way I could just stop feeling the way I do…”

Tom watched on helplessly, privately wishing he could do something to take his pain away. Something more than a comforting gesture or a hand on his shoulder. 

Tom very well knew what he would like to do, but it wasn’t strictly professional.

Chris took a deep, shuddering breath and buried his face in his hands. He sat back and exhaled slowly, wiping his face before lowering his hands again. His eyes were still obviously red, but the tears were wiped away and he put on a smile. He spared a glance to his watch, ignoring the on-lookers. “Y’know, I don’t know if you wanted to stay or something… I mean, I’m sure Lillian is wondering where you are…” 

Tom took the hint; Chris wasn’t fond on being in a public place like this anymore. “You’re probably right.” He stood, straightening out his shirt before donning his coat again. Tom disposed of his drink and soon they were making their way out. As soon as Chris was walking at his side, Tom took a chance of his own and placed his hand on Chris’ back, guiding him out. He would never admit aloud that he’d wanted to do it for so long. 

Chris obviously didn’t mind, and smiled softly at the touch. As soon as they were outside again, Chris looked around, curious. “Did you park nearby?”

Tom laughed. “No. I walk. I don’t live that far, really, and I’ll admit that the walks to and from work are the most exercise I’ll get in a given day.”

Chris smiled, amused. “Well, ah...” He became nervous, averting his gaze. “I can give you a lift, if you want…?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I want to, Tom.” He smiled reassuringly. “Honest.”

Tom – who still hadn’t removed his hand – relented (perhaps too quickly, but neither of them cared). “Very well, I’m sure there’s no way around it.” Chris led them to his car, even opening the passenger side door for Tom before walking around to the driver’s seat. “I don’t think I’ve ever done something like this…”

“Done what?”

“Gotten into a car with one of my patients.” He flashed him a smile, assuring him that he was alright with it. Chris returned his smile, though he quickly busied himself with the keys, not wanting another blush to creep up on his cheeks.

“Oh, well… I guess I’m not just any other patient, right?”

Boy, did that sound cliché.

Tom laughed softly. “I guess you aren’t.” 

Chris looked over at him for a moment, astonished by his answer, and their gazes lingered just like they had during the last meeting. He cleared his throat and turned on the ignition, starting the car and putting it into reverse. “Well, ah… let’s get going, then.”

Tom smiled fondly at him before gazing out the window, hiding his own creeping blush. Somehow, every last thing Chris did, from his smile to his laugh to his stuttering words, was nothing less than adorable to him. He couldn’t help it, and the butterflies that went rampant in his stomach were leading towards an obvious conclusion. Tom tried not to raise his hopes up or think about it too much, but it was becoming more apparent that not a day would go by without his mind at least once wandering to Chris.

It wasn’t long before Chris was pulling into the small parking lot reserved for the counseling building. He turned off the ignition and stepped out, Tom following suit. Chris wished Tom would rest his hand on his back again, just to have that sensation of touch again, but it didn’t happen. Still, he was glad to be here with Tom, able to talk about these kinds of things privately. 

Lillian, not one above treating Tom like some sort of superior, huffed at Tom rather shamefully as they walked in. “I was about to call you to make sure you hadn’t been mugged or something on the way!”

“I’m just a few minutes late!” He said defensively, though it was obvious that they were both being a bit dramatic. 

Lillian folded her arms. “I don’t care! You’re never late, Thomas, and I don’t want this becoming a trend; I’d rather not have a panic attack every day.”

Tom smiled apologetically, walking towards the desk and reaching over for her hand. He took it, bestowing a sweet kiss on it. His quickly turned his expression into one of regret, his tone now low and remorseful. “I’m so sorry, darling,” he said, and Chris grinned at the pout on his face. Tom seemed to be an expert at this. “Can you ever forgive me…?”

Lillian seemed reluctant, her frown still set on her features, but she finally gave in and rolled her eyes. “Call me next time.”

Tom instantly grinned, releasing her hand and making his way back to Chris’ side. “I promise.”

They walked into the all-familiar room, Chris settling on the couch and Tom gathering a few things on his desk before sitting across from him as usual. He smiled at him, and Chris returned it, unsure really of what to say. 

As usual in times like this, Tom was the first to speak up. “You know, you’re a really calm person.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected to say. “Oh.” He tried to smile at the compliment of sorts, but his expression only came across as confused. “Thanks…?”

Tom laughed, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees and his chin rested on his interlaced fingers. Chris – _almost_ regrettably – noted the position of Tom’s legs, spread wide. It left little to his ever-eager imagination. “I’m just noticing that… well, when it’s just us, you’re always so calm and relaxed. When we first met, it was sort of… not exactly that way.” 

Chris couldn’t stop the embarrassment from making itself obvious. He averted his gaze shamefully and hid his face with one hand. “I really wish I hadn’t made a first impression like that…”

“Nonsense,” he straightened, smiling. “If anything, I was curious to know more about you.”

Chris looked up, his expression flat and rather unconvinced. “You’re kidding.”

Tom laughed. “I’m not! I mean it.”

“So what, guys who come in cussing and making a scene attract you?” He hardly understood the implications of his question until he’d already asked it, and he instantly panicked. His eyes widened and he straightened, waving his hands frantically between them as though it would erase his words. “No, I didn’t mean that, I just—”

Tom only laughed more, practically falling back into his chair, his head tossed back. It both put Chris at ease and worried him even more. “Oh, lord…” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, composing himself. “You are certainly something, Chris. I mean it.”

“I just make a fool of myself on a regular basis, really,” he shrugged half-heartedly, but his grin was absolutely genuine. 

“Well, if you _must_ know, that’s not it. I just had a feeling that who I saw that day wasn’t who you really are. And here I am, being proved right.”

“How did you even know?”

“Well, I didn’t know, per say; the way Elsa spoke of you, being kind and generous and a lovely person… she couldn’t have been more right.”

Somehow, the words didn’t make him feel better like they should have. Chris leaned against the arm of the sofa, his chin in his hand. “Yeah, I’ll bet…”

Tom frowned, his head tilting to one side. “Why does that bother you?”

“It doesn’t!” He spoke quickly, perhaps trying to convince himself as well. “I suppose… I’m not sure why that doesn’t make me happy, like it should.”

“There must be a reason why Elsa saying things like this bothers you, while when I say it, you accept it wholeheartedly.” 

Chris thought for a few moments, wondering the exact same thing. Infatuation aside, he thought about the differences between his feelings for Elsa and for Tom. He liked Tom – a lot. He enjoyed his company and thought him to be a funny and attractive man. He was charming and amusing, with an amazing laugh and bright eyes that couldn’t decide what color they wanted to be, and a long, slender form and gorgeous features with elegant hands, and a perfect shape, and—

Right. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to think about.

Now what about Elsa? She was beautiful and humorous. He liked her eyes. She had nice hair, too… She was his _wife_ for God’s sake, and that was all he could think of? 

Maybe it was something beyond looks and features and the things he liked best. Perhaps it was his situation: him being here, having lied to Elsa, just to be with Tom. He preferred Tom to Elsa. He was happier than he had been in a long time. He wasn’t lying to Tom. He wasn’t betraying him.

“I think,” he started slowly, almost as if there could be a right or wrong answer, “it’s because I feel like I don’t deserve it when it comes to Elsa. She still has so much faith in me and so much hope that we can work things out, but I still don’t love her, I don’t think I ever will like I used to, and when she says things like that… I can’t help feeling like I’m only making things worse. I’m leading her on to think that everything’s gonna be fixed, when I’m pretty near damn sure that it won’t be.” 

Tom nodded, understanding what he meant. “It’s still not your fault, though. Neither of you can control how the other feels.”

“I know, but…” He felt the all-too-familiar tightness in his throat suddenly. “I just know that… when I tell her, she’ll…” Tears gathered in his eyes yet again, but he managed to blink them back for now. “It’s India, _that’s_ what I’m afraid of. Elsa could take her away, she will, and I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her, Tom. She’s everything to me, she’s my little girl, and just the thought of watching her leave…”

“She won’t take India away. She can’t.”

The tears came faster than he could handle. He hadn’t even realized Tom standing and stepping around the table, sitting himself beside him. “Damnit,” he muttered, fighting off the tears again. It hurt so horribly just thinking about it, and now confessing like this to Tom… it was hard. “I just don’t want to lose her… I can’t, I physically don’t think I could last more than a day without seeing her smile or needing me for something or asking me to read to her…”

Tom rested a hand on his back, soothingly caressing his shoulders, hoping to support him as best as he could. “It’s going to be alright, Chris. You won’t lose her. I promise you, you won’t.”

“You can’t know that…”

“Maybe I don’t, but just listening to how much you love her and need her in your life, I can only assume that she needs you just as much, too. You’re her father, and she’s still young. Elsa can’t take her away from you, not like this. No one can take your daughter away, simply because you’re no longer in love. That is between the two of you. India had no role to play in it.”

Chris took a deep, shaky breath. “No… I guess not…”

“She didn’t. So you can’t keep convincing yourself that India will be taken away. Alright?”

Chris didn’t say anything, nodding slightly. Tom, determined to hear him affirm it out loud, moved from beside him and knelt before him, gently grasping his chin and forcing their eyes to meet. Even at this closeness, Tom didn’t feel he was pushing the boundaries. Being close like this didn’t send off and red flags in his head. Even if there were any, Tom would have ignored them. “Alright?”

Chris nodded again, this time with more certainty. “Al-alright…”

“Good,” he murmured, and without a moment’s hesitation, he leant forward and enveloped Chris in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around him. He smiled when Chris held onto him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder. Just having anyone who would listen as support was probably just what he needed right now. They stayed like that for a long time, just holding one another as Chris calmed down. By the time he’d gathered himself, he was pulling back, reaching for the box of tissues. He laughed to himself as he did so. “I never thought I’d be reaching for this thing…”

Tom smiled. “All people do at some point. You’d be surprised.”

“I already am.” He used the tissue once again ridding of his tears for the day when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He disposed of the tissue and pulled out the phone, reading the text from Elsa asking if he would be back for dinner. He could tell, even through the text, that this amount of communication was far beyond her comfort zone as it was. He glanced at the clock, honestly not wanting to go, but staying out longer likely wouldn’t help the situation at home. “I think I have to go…”

Tom nodded. “Very well.” They both stood, Chris pocketing the phone and approaching the door. He followed him slowly, his hands in his pockets, making some sort of vain attempt to keep from reaching out for him again. Chris stopped just before walking out, turning back to spare a glance at Tom. Control had escaped him entirely in that moment, and before he knew it, he was pulling Tom into another hug.

He could have sworn he saw Tom reach out for him as well.

“I want you to call me if you need anything,” Tom murmured. “I don’t care what about. Just call me at some point.”

Chris didn’t need to be told again. “I will.”

They parted, and Tom sent Chris on his way, bidding him farewell and closing the door behind him. As soon as the door was shut, he heaved out a long sigh, leaning his back against the dark wood. He knew he was already getting in too deep. Already he had violated a personal rule of never promising a client anything, but he knew he didn’t care. He hated seeing Chris in such a state; his heart ached and his mind was constantly wondering what he could possibly do to make things better. 

_Many_ ways of helping him came to mind, but perhaps being there for him, just like he had been today, was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, to those whom I promised the chapter to by the past weekend: I’M SO SORRY. Personal procrastination followed by a rather sudden sickness really hindered me in the most recent days, but HERE IT IS. I added a shit ton of stuff to make up for it. ._. I think it’s a 17 page chapter, but don’t quote me on that. MUCH more than normal. A whole scene in this chapter was like, NOT PLANNED, but for the Hiddlesworth and for the sake of those I inadvertently lied to, I hope this makes up for it. 
> 
> On the note of updates: I’m going to simply beg patience on your part. I’m in school, taking four classes this quarter, and I don’t have a whole lot of time to spare on top of sleeping, school, homework, studying, and work. That, and I’m generally distracted on a normal basis. ._.
> 
> Good news though is that the next chapter is quite nicely planned out. However, the time to write it is up for debate. I am going to estimate **two to three weeks** between updates. I hope this is alright with you all.  <3
> 
> Thank you for your support so far; I never really get this kind of written feedback ANYWHERE, so it’s really lovely having this sort of appreciation <333333333333


	4. Chapter 4

Chris walked in through the front door, feeling like he’d been out past his curfew and was trying not to get caught. The house was eerily quiet and rather dark, and Chris wasn’t sure if he should try to call out for anyone. He tried to calm himself, walking through the main room towards the kitchen, hanging his keys with the other sets. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he approached what appeared to be a small bowl wrapped in plastic wrap. There was a small sticky note on top of it:

_‘India was hungry, so we already ate.’_

He removed the note and saw a serving of spaghetti underneath the plastic. He pulled it away and took the bowl to the microwave, heating it up as he fetched a fork for himself. 

Now he felt terrible. Not like the feeling was new to him.

He almost regretted checking his phone when he did. He and Tom were having a great time (a little emotional at times, yes, but it still felt good to get all of that out). He wouldn’t go so far as blaming Elsa for texting him, but he sure as hell wished nothing had interrupted them. They probably could have talked all night.

Nevertheless, Chris figured that it would be time soon to put an end to the silence between himself and Elsa. India hadn’t asked about it yet, but Chris was sure it wouldn’t be long until she mentioned how odd they were acting around each other. She was young, but she was definitely intuitive. Though she wasn’t sure why her parents weren’t always getting along, it never escaped her. 

The microwave beeped loudly, and he cringed at the noise, quickly pulling the hot bowl out and setting it on the counter. Just as he’d feared, the sound of someone approaching could be heard, and Chris busied himself with stirring the pasta. 

“I figured it was you,” Elsa said idly. Chris tried to ignore the feel of her gaze piercing into his back. He deserved it, he really did, but he still hated the blame that rested on his shoulders. 

He stopped stirring and turned, facing her with an almost forlorn expression. Her arms were folded, but she didn’t seem angry or irritated. Just tired. There was a long silence, both of them waiting on the other to say something: Chris didn’t want to start, since that was what Elsa normally did. Elsa didn’t want to start, simply because she was done being the one who started these conversations. 

More silence. Chris found another distraction in stirring his spaghetti. Elsa picked at her sweater. 

“Well,” Elsa finally said, “I hope you had a good day today.” She turned on her heel, but Chris relented. 

“Wait,” he set down the spaghetti and crossed the kitchen. Elsa turned back to face him again, her arms now at her sides. When he stopped, they were still a few feet apart, but Chris believed it to be the closest they’d willingly been to one another in a week. He was lost for words on how to begin, but he managed to find a way to speak. He figured just cutting to the chase would be best. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Elsa…”

Elsa stared at him, now shocked. “… Wh… what do you mean…?”

He realized then how it came out, and his eyes widened. There was a brief moment that he debated telling her the truth. Tell her that he didn't want to try and fix this. Tell her that their marriage was over. 

Looking back on this moment, Chris would wish he had.

He quickly caught himself, stuttering a bit, pure fear making the decision for him. “… Oh, god, I didn’t… I didn’t mean _that…_ ” 

Elsa relaxed a bit, but she was still obviously on edge. “Oh,” she said, laughing nervously, but the tension of the room had changed dramatically. “Then, uh… what did you mean…?”

The lie continued. “What I meant was, this silence... we have to stop. It's getting us nowhere."

Suddenly the attempt at lightening the mood was gone. Her eyes were narrow and her gaze was critical. "Well, you didn't have to go out with your friends today, did you?"

"... What, so you're telling me that this is _my_ fault? I have one day for myself, and suddenly I'm at fault for this damned tension between us?!"

"You keep saying 'us', Chris, and yet you're the one who's gone all day today, making no effort to fix anything!"

"That was just today! And besides, I’m the one who actually stopped you from leaving just now! " Chris stopped himself, almost regretting saying it. He took a deep breath, calming himself down. He didn't want this to be another argument. "Look," he started, "I'm not trying to get away from you or something..."

Lies.

"... It's just hard, okay? I don't want to make you upset, like I am now, but you have to believe me when I say that I want to go back to the way things were. I really do."

Lies, lies, _lies._

Elsa seemed unsure, and finally Chris stepped forward, resting his hands over Elsa's shoulders. She tensed for a moment, but immediately relaxed. He was sure that now, when he was the one who finally showed some intimacy, she didn't want to push him away. 

"I'm sorry. Really, I am. Can we just... forget that entire thing happened? Start fresh, put it behind us, and talk like we normally did?"

Elsa bit her lip. "I don't know, Chris, we really should talk things out..."

"We will. That's what we have Tom for." He offered a smile. "For now, though. I don't want to go through a whole week of silence until next Thursday. We can talk about it then."

She sighed. "Okay... fine, we can do that." She smiled up at him, and before Chris could pull away, her hands were on his chest. He knew what was coming.

Her arms slid up and around his neck, and Chris knew pulling back would be the end of him. Reluctantly - though he didn't show it - he stepped towards her until they were pressed against one another, and he leaned down to kiss her. He made it as convincing as he could, but it was difficult. Her arms tightened, and he knew she wanted more. He gave in ever so slightly, brushing his tongue against her lower lip before taking the smallest step back. She finally took the hint and they parted. It was the first kiss they'd shared in a week. It felt... odd, now.

Elsa made to depart again, this time giving him a look as she left, biting her lower lip and turning on her heel at the last moment, likely to find India. As soon as he deemed her far away enough, he cursed beneath his breath and ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ " He knew what it meant. He knew what she wanted. He knew what would happen.

He had to get out of it. But how? How could he do something like that, kiss her in such a way and lead her to believe that it may just happen, only to back out oh so conveniently? It had been so long, and she was eager for it.

He never believed he'd dread sex as much as he did right now.

The next hour was spent in his office, contemplating over what to do. Every minute closer to their usual bed time was a minute closer to... _that_. He didn't want to, but it wasn't as easy as saying that. They were young and married. It was something young and married people did. He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. He had to do it. But how on earth would he? It was one thing kissing her cheek and telling her he loved her as she walked out the door. This was something completely different, something they hadn't done in... well, a long time. He hadn't been physically attracted to Elsa for far longer than he'd be willing to admit. It wasn't going to change just because they had sex for one night. He couldn't force himself to want her.

Something struck him then. He didn't want her, but... his eyes followed the path towards his phone, where beside it was Tom's contact number. It was a personal reminder to call him, like they agreed upon. If he couldn't make love to Elsa through desire, well...Perhaps the next best thing would work.

Chris had never done something like this before. He'd never had sex with someone while pretending to have sex with someone else. Initially, the notion felt weird and to some degree, wrong. But Elsa was expecting it, and in order to keep up his end... well, he would consider this a necessary measure. 

After leaving his office and bidding India goodnight - Elsa was there, reading to her, and gave him a smile as he left that made him shudder when he'd turned the corner - he was glad to be the first upstairs and into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, staring at himself in the mirror as he came to terms with what he was about to do. He was nervous, yet somehow eager as well. Not for the act itself, but even now he was thinking often about something like this with Tom... despite it not being entirely real, it was a bit better than pure imagination.

He stepped out of the bathroom when Elsa walked in. He slipped past her and had a fleeting sensation of panic, but he knew what he had to do. He glanced over at the bed as he pulled his trousers away, pulling his outer shirt over his head, leaving him in a white t-shirt and his boxers. Another deep breath, another moment of calm. 

Suddenly, Elsa was directly behind him, her hands sliding around his middle as she nuzzled between his shoulders. Again, nerves rose, and he realized that he didn't even know _how_ to simply pretend that it was Tom and not his wife. Elsa seemed bent on doing some of the leading, which for Chris was a huge relief. 

"I know it's been a long time, Chris," she murmured, and she grabbed the ends of his t-shirt, pulling up at it slowly. 

Chris didn't respond, not sure what to say. Agreeing sounded almost rude. Though, disagreeing would be lying. Silence was easier, he found. He turned around and Elsa started to push him towards the bed, his shirt removed along the way. Unsure and somewhat exposed, he did the next best thing to keep some part of himself occupied, and quickly leant forward and kissed her. 

She made a small noise of surprise and quickly wrapped her arms around him. He grabbed her waist, almost having to remind himself, and deepened the kiss. They turned so Elsa was the one being pushed towards the bed, and Chris lifted her as soon as her knees hit the edge. Thankfully, they were close to the nightstand, so there wouldn't be much interruption when he needed the condom. He surprised himself when he realized that he'd remembered they were even there.

Elsa now lying down on the bed, she smiled sweetly up at him and pulled her own shirt away as well. Chris swallowed, and he was sure that what she saw as anticipation was what he felt as anxiety. She reached up and guided him down over herself gently, biting her lip and resuming their kiss as soon as Chris was over her. He knew she was becoming just a bit impatient, unclasping her bra for herself and pushing it away. Chris dared not break apart, instead trying as hard as he could to focus on Tom, everything he was, everything about him... 

... Something wasn't working.

He closed his eyes and kissed her somewhat harder, pushing aside the sweet taste of her and imagining if it were Tom he was kissing. He remembered the mocha he'd ordered earlier and tried to think about what else he would taste like. Cinnamon came to mind, and maybe vanilla as well? It was a pleasant thought, something that made him moan to himself. He had to be sure that he couldn't say his name, but just that thought alone was enough to get a reaction. He heard Elsa moan, and he closed his eyes tighter, partially in reality and partially in a dream. 

He imagined that it was Tom's hands on his skin, weaving into his hair, holding onto his shoulders as it became more intense. When she said his name, he thought more about what Tom would sound like in bed (it wasn't the first time he'd imagined him calling his name). When the time finally came and he thrust into her, she gasped in pleasure, but he barely heard it. He was kissing her with passion, but his heart was yearning for _him_.

When it was over, Chris couldn't believe that he'd managed it. It had worked for the time being, but now he found himself wanting Tom even more. He lay in bed, tolerating Elsa's arm thrown over his chest, his eyes fixed on the open ceiling above them. The skylight showed a few stars that could be made out despite the nearby city lights. Chris wondered what Tom was doing right now, and if he ever thought of him. He doubted it, really, but no one could blame him for holding out at least a little hope. 

\--------------------  
Elsa had been in a stellar mood the next few days. When morning had come after they slept together, she had caught Chris before he’d left for work and gave him a kiss goodbye, telling him she loved him. Chris told her that he did too. 

It was difficult putting up this façade of wanting everything to work. He was honestly surprised at how quickly sex had made Elsa forgive him, but he knew that wasn’t exactly what was it: they talked, they were intimate, and though it went _much_ farther than he’d anticipated, a part of him was happy to see her smiling again. 

Now, with India balanced on his hip, he carried her through the local market as they shopped, Elsa looking around for whatever caught her eye while India said hello to everyone who looked at her. Chris smiled apologetically when someone seemed to be caught off guard by it, but almost everyone had either smiled back at her or said hello. She beamed at Chris whenever they did, and he couldn’t help smiling as well. 

“Oh, India, do you want to go there?” Elsa asked, and India looked over, immediately bouncing in excitement. It had to have been her favorite store to shop at, full of toys she loved and adorable clothes as well. She nearly climbed out of Chris’ hold, wanting to get there as soon as possible. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” She reached for it, and Chris finally set her down, still holding onto her hand. Not really keen on going, he looked over to Elsa.

“Maybe I can pick something up for dinner…? I can let you two look around some more.”

“Oh, okay.” She smiled, taking India’s hand and giving Chris a kiss on his cheek. He forced a smile and watched them walk away, now finally to himself. Despite the loud sounds of the people around him, he enjoyed it. It was exciting to him.

He strolled through the stands, glancing between the shops, not really intending on buying anything. For now, his mind was far away, thinking over what he would do now that he’d given Elsa reason to believe that he really did still love her. He almost regretted having sex, now that he’d given her even more false hope. Sometimes he wanted to throw in the towel, just be done with it. 

If only things were easier done than said.

Deciding to at least take a look at one store – he didn’t want to keep thinking about his and Elsa’s relationship – he stepped into a bookstore. He smiled at the shop owner, stepping back into a far section of the store, preferring to browse in peace instead of feeling someone’s eyes on him. He glanced idly at the shelves, smiling softly when he recognized the Shakespeare section. Macbeth was the first thing he saw, and he immediately reached for it, pulling it down and flipping through the first few pages. When he was younger, he’d taken part in the play, taking on the role of Malcolm. He’d always enjoyed theater, though he never figured he’d actually be able to make a career out of it. 

“Excuse me, sorry,” someone said, and immediately Chris stepped aside, making a small apology. He continued reading the first act, still remembering some of his lines from long ago. He didn’t even know the person had been standing beside him all this time. 

“I hate to bother you, but I can’t reach the book I need…” Chris looked up at the top shelf where he’d fetched his own book. 

“Which do you need?”

“Othello, if you don’t mind.” 

Chris reached up, managing to grab the back of the book and pull it out before turning to face the man beside him. “Here—” He nearly dropped both books in surprise. 

“Why, thank you,” Tom said, taking the book and grinning from ear to ear. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

“Oh, I just… Sorry, I didn’t even…” Tom looked at him almost expectantly, and Chris knew he was just waiting for him to at least finish one of his sentences. He swallowed, clearing his throat before muttering out a small, “Sorry.”

“What for? It’s good to see you.” Chris laughed somewhat nervously – just hearing Tom say that made him feel so much lighter. After a few moments of silence, Tom gestured to Macbeth in his hands. “You’re into Shakespeare?”

“I, uh,” he looked down at the book, trying not to make a fool of himself. “Yeah. I mean, I did a play when I was younger.”

“Who did you play?” He asked.

Chris shrugged. “Malcolm.” 

“Really? That’s incredible!” 

Chris was surprised by that. Tom seemed very excited when it came to the subject. “Well, not really… It was just a small play, nothing special.” He shrugged yet again, trying to brush it off; Tom’s compliments left him a mess.

“Of course it is! There’s nothing more remarkable than the journey the hero endures. Malcolm grows a great deal throughout the play; I love watching his development as a character, especially near the end. He learned a great deal from Macduff, and shows it as he regains the throne rightfully.” 

Chris watched him, unable to believe just how much he was glowing right then. “You _really_ like Shakespeare, don’t you?” 

Tom laughed, biting his lip for a moment. Chris had to refrain from kissing him right then. Temptation was the worst feeling to fight off, he found. “I may be, just a little bit.”

“Just a little,” he said teasingly, adding a subtle wink as well. It happened before he’d realized it, and as soon as he done it, he half-wished he could take it back. He wasn’t supposed to be flirting with him. But it just… happened. Though he was well aware that he was married with a child, somehow he knew that he wasn’t going to stop.

Tom laughed and looked pointedly at the book, and Chris had could have sworn he saw him blush. He smiled up at him, almost shyly, and Chris’ grin was unmistakable. “I guess I ought to put this back, since I don’t intend on buying another copy…” He faced the book towards the shelf and expertly – obviously tall enough to reach its original place – slid it into place. Chris’ eyes were drawn to the immensely slender form of his body, the way his leather jacket fit perfectly over his figure and how his shirt rose just above his belt, revealing a smooth plane of firm skin. Chris tried his hardest to look away, but he couldn’t. He could make out the sharp curve of his hip bone, holding up the form-fitting trousers that showed off his long and lean legs. Only when Tom’s shirt had once again covered his skin did Chris snap out of it and turn his attention to Macbeth again. 

Noticing the silence that had fallen afterwards, he passed the book between his hands, his mind racing to find a way to start another conversation between them. It wasn’t like starting a conversation and keeping it going was difficult, but Chris hated to sound like a fool around him. “So, uh… you said you already had a copy of Othello...?”

Tom nodded. “I do, yeah. Two, actually. One from a long time ago, and the other is a much-too-fancy copy that my mother sent me for Christmas a few years back. It’s gorgeous, and I’d hate to open it, so I don’t.” He shrugged, smiling bashfully. 

Chris recalled that Tom had been involved in theater in his early studies. Before thinking about it, he asked, “Is the older one from university or something?” 

He was met with a confused look. “How did you know I was in theater in university?”

Oh god.

“I, uh… I don’t know, I mean… I guess I just…” Again, he couldn’t spit out a proper sentence. Needing more time, he turned and coughed into his shoulder, trying to figure out what to do. Telling him he’d searched for and read his profile on his university’s page was borderline stalking, but he didn’t want to lie to him. It wouldn’t sit well. He sighed, making his choice. “I saw it… on a website, about your studies in university…” He looked away, only meeting his gaze when he was practically turned away from him. “I hope that’s not… crossing a line, or something…”

He was surprised to feel a firm hand on his shoulder followed by a calm laugh.

“Chris, it’s _fine_. I mean, I can’t expect you to just accept what I say about myself and who I am without at least looking it up or something. I mean, it’s what people do.” Chris looked up at him hopefully, and Tom kept talking, feeling the need to reassure him. “Honestly, I almost Google everyone I meet.”

“You do…?”

“Of course! You can’t trust anyone, now can you?” He grinned squeezing his shoulder, now sending a wink of his own. Chris maybe brightened a bit too quickly after that, but he didn’t care.

“Oh, well… I guess I’d had a bit of a panic attack over nothing.” He shrugged, adding a small laugh for good measure, and Tom nodded.

“Apparently you did.” He smiled, and dropped his hand from his shoulder. Tom opened his mouth to speak again, but shut it, pausing for a moment before starting again. “So, what're you doing down here?"

"I could ask the same of you, couldn’t I," he said, and Tom laughed at the familiar exchange.

"You could, yeah." 

Chris almost spoke, almost told Tom that he'd been here with Elsa and India, but now he wasn't sure. For some reason, Tom simply asking made him question if he should actually reveal why exactly he was here. He didn't want to tell him he was with India and Elsa just yet. "Well, I'm just kinda looking around... I came to get groceries but I got a bit distracted." He gestured to the book, laughing lightly. 

"I can see that, you're a bit away from the produce, aren't you?"

"Just a bit, in case you haven't noticed," his smiled widened - if that was possible, since it hadn't vanished for at least five minutes. 

"Would you like someone to guide you back?" The words were kind, but there was nothing but teasing in Tom's eyes. "I'd hate for you to go lost along the way." 

"How could I say no to that?" Tom gestured for him to lead the way, and Chris obliged without question. Quickly stopping to purchase the book, they exited the store, walking back towards the bustling crowd, the volume immediately increasing around them as they left the small shop. Apparently they'd been in the shop a lot longer than they'd thought. Venders were shouting at one another and people were talking amongst themselves, all the while pushing past each other and making it rather difficult to get anywhere. 

Tom spared Chris a smile, and Chris stepped right into the crowd.

As soon as they were in the mass of people, it wasn't as bad as they actually thought. It was still somewhat difficult to get by people, but they made their way, passing through and people and walking back to the main market. Chris was caught up in his thoughts again, now wishing he hadn’t agreed to walk back to get groceries, back to see Elsa. It wasn’t like he wanted to hide from her, but he wanted to cherish his time with Tom. He felt cowardly, running and hiding when things got too scary.

But it _was_ scary. Horrifying, even. He hated how divided he felt, how torn it was to feel the longing for Tom but his dedication to his family all at once. Elsa and India needed him, but he in turn needed Tom. He just made him feel light… free. There was no boundary to what they could talk about. They laughed about anything and could talk for hours. Chris could tell that they had the similar interests and he was sure that they had the same hobbies. In his mind, he could easily see them wasting days away together doing whatever they wanted to their heart’s content.

What scared him was that this was exactly how he was with Elsa in the beginning, too.

He heard his name being called, and he turned, looking back as a few people pushed between himself and Tom – he had fallen behind him at some point, it seemed. Chris stopped, now bumping into someone else, and forcing them further apart. Tom stood up on his tip-toes and gave an apologetic smile, trying to squeeze his way through, though it obviously wasn’t working. Chris forced his way back – thankful that his generally large size made it easier for him than most – and reached out, trying to break through the crowd. In that moment, he just felt a sense of brief panic wash over him (from what, he wasn’t sure) and fought to get Tom next to him again. Finally forcing his arm through, he felt his hand brush over the familiar feel of Tom’s leather jacket and slid his hand down along what felt like the sleeve, grabbing the first thing his hand found.

Chris tugged, hard, pulling Tom through the people by hand. Tom gave a small yelp, sputtering out endless apologies to those he bumped into, but Chris wasn’t sorry. As soon as he pulled Tom by his side, Tom appeared a bit breathless, but flashed a grin. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said, now refusing to let Tom stray from his side. He wouldn’t let him fall back like that. He also wouldn’t let go of his hand, apparently.

Tom didn’t seem to be complaining though. That, or he didn’t notice.

They walked through the crowd again, the amount of people lessening. Chris felt he could finally breathe again, and a glance sent Tom’s way let him know that Tom was off in his own world, just looking around and taking in the scenery. He smiled when a group of kids ran past, laughing to himself before letting his eyes wander over to Chris. They shared a smile, and Tom looked down, seeming to finally notice their hands still joined. Chris watched in anticipation, unsure if Tom would ask for some kind of explanation or something. Tom gave a light, nervous laugh, and that was enough for Chris. With a heavy heart, he took the hint and pulled his hand away, shoving it deep into his pocket.

He kept to himself from then on, scolding himself for trying to extend some form of intimacy too quickly and criticizing himself for trying to be affectionate with his _marriage counselor_. It was ridiculous. It was hopeless. Tom wouldn’t be interested in him. He wasn’t. The only reason he’d stayed with him thus far was to give him some company. He was just being nice. 

Though, his heart still clutched onto hope. They walked to a fruit stand and examined some of the apples and pears, Tom weighing two bright red and yellow apples in his hands while Chris idly held onto a pear, giving himself something to do. Carefully, not wanting to be caught, he lifted his eyes to Tom, watching him. Tom had sparked up a conversation with the seller, asking about prices or something. That wasn’t what interested him. He watched his smile spread across his features, the entire conversation lost to the sounds around him. It wasn’t what mattered. Tom was gorgeous in whatever he did. 

It was only a few moments later that he realized that Tom was looking at him, asking for something. “What?”

“I said, did you want one? He can give us a deal for them.” He gestured to the apple in his hand. Chris set the pear down. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Before Tom could do anything, he pulled out his wallet, handing the man the money necessary.

“Oh, Chris, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t worry,” he took the second apple from Tom’s hand, bringing himself to smile. “I want to.”

Reluctant, Tom finally accepted that Chris would be the one paying, and smiled. “Well… thank you.” He gave an appreciative nod, lifting the apple to his lips and taking a bite out of it. Chris watched, mesmerized, and suddenly felt a flush rise up from his neck to his cheeks when a drop of juice trailed down from the corner of his mouth towards his chin. It took the greatest amount of resistance yet to not step in and lick the juice from his skin, to drag his tongue along his jaw and over his neck, down to his collar bones, over his chest, down his abdomen…. God, it would taste so good, too…

Chris immediately turned as Tom lifted his hand to wipe the juice away, taking a bit of his own apple, pointedly turning away to look at the other foods available. He needed a distraction. _Desperately._ They walked on in silence for a while afterwards, each finishing their apples and browsing casually at the items for sale. Chris managed to keep everything in check after the ‘apple incident’, and soon they were nearly the end of the market. He considered it a miracle that they hadn’t run into Elsa and India thus far. Honestly, he was surprised that he hadn’t received a call yet. 

"Chris, do you… do you have plans soon?”

He looked up at Tom, and his heart took off at a sprint. “Plans? Like… today?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, I mean… do you have anything going on?”

Chris didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t even know what time it was. It could have been midnight and he would have been available. “No! No, I don't.” It took some effort to keep his voice moderately calm. “Why do you ask…?”

He shrugged, acting casual about it. "I just wanted to know if you had some time... maybe to go for some coffee?" 

Chris was practically dumbstruck. "I, uh... yeah, I mean... Yeah." Tom immediately grinned, and it was instantly mirrored with his own. 

\--------------------

They didn’t order coffee this time, but Tom led them to a rather secluded corner of the shop, pulling a chair out for Chris and sitting himself down opposite of him. He crossed his arms and leaned on the table, smiling warmly at Chris. Now he felt some concern rise up within himself; did Tom want to talk about something in particular…?

“So,” he started, tapping on the table, “how are things? With Elsa?”

Chris shrugged. With Tom, this wasn’t exactly the type of casual conversation he wanted to have with him. “Fine, I guess. Good.”

“Those are quite different answers…” He seemed generally concerned.

“Everything’s fine!” He gave a smile and even laughed for good measure. Tom was anything but convinced.

“Chris…”

The smile was dropped like a rock. “What do you want me to say, Tom…?”

“What you’re thinking. What’s on your mind.” His head tilted slightly to one side, and he asked, “Can you trust me enough to do that…?”

Of course he could. “I… yeah…” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Things are… better. I just… after we fought, we sort of reconciled and talked it out a little… but I’m still just… I’m not happy.”

“Why do you think that is?” 

“I don’t know… Tom, if I knew, I’d tell you. I wish I knew. I hate not knowing what’s going on in my life and what’s wrong with me, and it’s the most irritating thing I’ve ever gone through.” He sighed heavily, wishing the burden would just vanish.

His frown deepened. “Chris, there’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing.”

“Tom, I’m no longer in love with my wife, I lie to her every day and the only reason I stay with her is for my daughter. There’s a _lot_ wrong with me.”

“Chris, it’s not easy. I understand that you can’t just go up to your wife and tell her that it’s over. I know it doesn’t work like that. It’s going to take time.”

Chris was borderline desperate for straight answers. “But how much time?”

Tom frowned. “I wish I knew.”

“But you’ve done this before. You have to have some idea, right?” 

He shrugged, now picking at his jacket. “It won’t be the same for you. It was different between us as it will be with you and Elsa.” 

Chris wanted to know more. “Tom, what _did_ happen?”

Tom, much to his surprise, seemed caught off guard by the question. Somehow, Chris had figured that Tom wouldn’t hesitate to answer, but apparently his imagined closeness with him was a bit off. “What do you mean? I told you.” His answer was quick; Chris seemed to have picked up a few tricks of his own in his time spent with him, and it was obvious that he wasn’t keen on answering.

He knew he’d crossed a line. But somehow, that wasn’t what bothered him. He wanted to know everything, about what happened, how Tom came to where he was, what actually went down between him and this other person… Chris leaned forward now, sympathetic as he asked, “Do you trust _me_ …?”

Tom stared at Chris for a long time, and he wondered what was going through his mind. It wasn’t like he was contemplating his trust, but maybe what he should say. This time, Chris was patient, not in any hurry. Slowly, Tom nodded and Chris smiled softly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“No, I… I think you should know.” He was nodding again, probably more to himself, taking a slow breath before speaking again. Chris didn’t want to ask why or how he came to the conclusion. “When I told you things weren’t working… it was in a different way than you might imagine. We were growing apart, but we were also clashing. It was difficult to be with them since at every turn we could disagree about something. It was just small things at first, but… it got worse over time.”

Chris didn’t speak; he could have easily entered the conversation, saying that it was exactly how he and Elsa had been when things began to change, but he didn’t want to interrupt Tom. 

“We just argued over everything. But every night, we’d apologize to each other, even though I know I hadn’t done anything wrong or they hadn’t done wrong and we would go to bed, growing more apart as time went on.” Tom took another deep breath. “I just… by the end, I wanted it to be over. I hated feeling that way, but when I know I no longer loved them, there wouldn’t be anything that could change that. Even now I sometimes wish I had done something different, but… I’m not sure what that would have been.” 

Chris wished he could have pulled him into his arms then. Console him, tell him that it was alright. He wanted to be there for Tom, but of course, he couldn’t. “It’s in the past now… I mean, whatever happened between you and this other person—”

“Him.”

Chris blinked. “Him?”

“His name was Daniel.” Tom shrugged again. “May as well not beat around the bush anymore.”

Chris tried not to show just how relieved he was. But Tom had dated a man before… he’d been with a guy and they had been in a long-lasting relationship. He didn’t know what to say, but anything would have been better than silence. “Oh, uh… wow.” 

Well maybe silence would have been better than that.

“Does that bother you…?” Tom seemed fearful; Chris could easily see it. “I know not everyone is as open to that, I mean, I’m not saying that you’re not open, it’s just that it can be different for others and I would understand if you didn’t—”

“Tom.” Tom stopped then, catching himself on his rambling. “It’s fine.”

He was silent for a few moments, then sighed. “Oh… okay.” He smiled, and Chris returned it. “So, I know I interrupted you…”

Chris laughed. “It’s fine. I was just going to say… it’s happened. I know we all regret things, but there’s no point in dwelling on it, is there? Unless some guy in a lab builds a time machine, we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward.”

Tom thought about it for a few moments, quiet as he contemplated his words. “You’re right… I know you are… but…”

“It’s easier said than done. I know.”

Tom smiled, and Chris felt his heart race again. They didn’t have to say anything, but that was what made him so comfortable around Tom. Sometimes silence was enough for them. Just his smile made butterflies flutter in his stomach, and seeing his eyes brighten again had him grinning from ear to ear. It was something he didn’t feel with Elsa anymore, and feeling all of the sensations of being happy again made him only want it more. He wanted it with Tom. A part of him didn’t care if he was jumping into the decision too quickly. Maybe he was just craving the lack of intimacy – _genuine_ intimacy – but that didn’t matter. He could have it with Tom, and Tom was everything he wanted and more. He knew it. 

“Chris, I was wondering…” Tom looked away, unfolding his arms and clasping his hands together, almost wringing them out nervously. 

“You’ve been wondering a lot today.” He grinned, trying to relieve him from whatever it was he was going to say. 

“I suppose you’re right. But, I just wanted to know if, maybe—”

Without warning, Chris’ phone rang. He nearly jumped in surprise, stopping Tom mid-sentence to see who it was.

Of course.

He ended the call, not wanting Elsa to interrupt this. He wanted to know what Tom was going to say. “Sorry about that…”

“Who was it?”

“Oh, nothing too important.” At least he wasn’t lying.

“Oh. Well, I was going to say, I was thinking that maybe you could—”

It rang again. 

“God damnit,” he muttered, pulling his phone out again. “I need to turn this off…”

“It sounds like someone’s trying to get a hold of you…” Chris didn’t miss his disappointment. He’d heard it in his own voice enough times already. 

“I… Can I just…” Chris gestured out of the café. 

“It’s Elsa, isn’t it?”

Chris didn’t even look surprised. Tom was intuitive. He should have known that he would have figured it out by now.

“I actually have to get going anyways,” he said, slowly standing from his chair. Chris stood too, unsure what he was trying to do. Would he stop him, he would convince him to stay? He stood helplessly, his phone a heavy weight in his hand. Tom stepped around him, his eyes cast downwards. Stopping beside him, he grabbed his shoulder in a friendly manner and sent him warm smile. “You still have to call me, remember?”

“Uh, yeah… I guess I do.”

“Don’t sound so down about it.” He squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” He glanced down at the phone after a few moments, but Chris’ eyes never left his face. “You should answer that...” He looked up at Chris again, slowly stepping away from him and towards the exit. Chris’ eyes never once looked away from him as he walked out, pulling his jacket closer to himself and crossing the street. He was such a fool to let him go. 

Finally answering the phone, he rubbed his face and slumped back into his seat. “Hello?”

_“There you are,”_ He heard Elsa’s relieved tone on the other line. _“I was worried that something had happened to your phone… you never have it off.”_

“Yeah, uh… sorry about that. Did you need something?”

_“India’s ready to go, and we should probably start heading back for dinner.”_

“Okay, I’ll meet you by the car in ten minutes.”

_“Okay. I love you.”_

“You too, Elsa.”

\--------------------

There was nothing worse than replaying that same scene over and over in his head. Watching Tom walk away, shut down like that, thinking Chris had better things to do than listen to him. And now his mind was reeling, trying to think of what Tom could have asked him. By now, it was too late, and the question wasn’t even important. 

He figured he may as well take his own advice: he couldn’t change the past. He had to move on.

Driving home from work, Chris figured that if he went straight to calling Tom, he could have at least an hour to talk to him before Elsa came back. It wasn’t like he was ashamed to talk to Tom; he just didn’t want Elsa asking who he was talking to. God only knew that he would be laughing and possibly flirting with him the entire time.

He pulled into the driveway and made his way inside, already removing his jacket and tie by the time he stepped inside. He jogged to his office, butterflies in his stomach again and anticipation building the closer he got. He was excited but nervous all at once; it seemed to be a common sensation when concerning Tom.

Closing the door to the office behind him, he approached his desk and sat heavily in his chair, pulling his phone out and reaching for Tom’s business card. Admittedly, he’d already added his number to his phone, but he wanted to be sure that he was available then. If anything, he could just ask Lillian to have Tom call him back later. He grabbed the small business card placed next to his keyboard, glancing quickly at the hours, seeing that Tom was well within his phoning hours. Holding his breath and hoping that he would answer, he entered Tom’s number and waited as it rang.

A few moments later, the ringing stopped. _“Hello, this is Lillian, how may I help you?”_

“Hi, is Tom Hiddleston in?”

_“He is, may I ask who’s calling?”_

“Chris, Chris Hemsworth.”

Suddenly Lillian’s tone completely changed. _“Oh, I remember you! I thought I recognized your voice.”_

Chris laughed awkwardly, unsure how to feel about Lillian recognizing him so easily. “Yeah, or I mean…” he laughed again to fill the small silence, but Lillian stepped in.

_“Tom had talked about you quite a bit after you’d gone. Said he had a lovely day with you.”_

“Really…?”

_“Of course! Would I lie about that?”_ Lillian made a chastising noise and continued. _“He said almost the exact same thing yesterday morning, too. He ran into you the day before, didn’t he? Talking about how he never would have guessed that you were into Shakespeare. You would not believe how infatuated that young man is with Shakespeare and his plays!”_

“Oh, I saw that for myself.” Chris grinned, remembering just how ecstatic he got just by talking about one character from the play. He could only imagine how excited he would get over talking about his works in general.

_“Mm… he’s a remarkable man. Were I about twenty years younger I’d have fancied him from afar, I can assure you.”_ She seemed to be off in her own world for a moment, and Chris – unsure how exactly to respond to that – was thankful that she had spoke up again. _“Well, I’ll phone Tom and get you through to him, okay?”_

“Thank you, so much.” He smiled, feeling far less anxious now. Somehow, Lillian vaguely reminded him of his own mother with the way she talked. A very energetic and bubbly person in general with a wonderful charisma about her. He wondered when he’d last called his mom… he hadn’t done so in a while. He’d have to do that later.

_“Chris?”_

“Um... Hi.” Great. Now that he was on the phone with him, he didn’t even know what to say. “Uh… I’m calling you.”

_“I can see that. Or hear that, for that matter.”_ Tom laughed, making Chris smile. 

“Yeah.” There was a short silence that followed, Chris playing with the hem of his shirt. Taking the moment, he grabbed a pencil and wrote a note to call his mother when he had time. Still, Tom seemed to be quiet, and Chris decided to say exactly what was one his mind: “Y’know, I’m not really sure what you expected when I called.”

He could practically see Tom shrug and hear the smile in his voice. _“I don’t really know either… I just wanted you to call, that’s all.”_

“Well, here I am.” Tom gave a single laugh through his nose. 

_“Here you are. Is everything alright with you?”_

Chris noted how he didn’t ask about Elsa this time. “Yeah, everything’s fine…” His mind went back to Sunday, however. How Tom left, and how he had been planning on asking him something. Chris felt guilt twist his stomach into a knot. “Actually… I wanted to say something. To you.”

_“What’s that…?”_

Chris carded his hand through his hair. “I… I’m sorry. About how we parted. I didn’t want to leave it the way we did, and I’ve felt horrible ever since.”

_“No, Chris, don’t—”_

Chris shook his head, not willing to accept that Tom was okay with it. “No, I wished I’d have stopped you. I wish I hadn’t let you go like that.”

Tom tried to reassure him. _“It’s fine. Really. You don’t have to worry about it. I had a wonderful day all the same.”_

He sighed. “I just wish you didn’t have to go like that. I wish I hadn’t answered the phone.”

_“Weren’t you the one who told me that there was no point in dwelling on things that have happened?”_ Tom said, rather matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I guess…” 

_“Then don’t think about it so much. It’s alright.”_

“I guess I just was wondering… why you’d gone like you did. I just feel like that isn’t like you, y’know? You seem like someone who’s patient… like you wouldn’t have minded waiting. Normally, at least.”

On the other end of the line, Tom had tensed. He feared that Chris would ask about it. The moment they started talking his past and Daniel, Tom felt himself feeling far too comfortable around Chris. He was opening up far more than a counselor should be, but Chris was insistent on knowing. And honestly, Tom didn’t mind telling him at all. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d talked about Daniel so openly, mentioning his name, even. The subject was still a bit painful, but Chris never pried too much. Tom simply felt comfortable in telling him… well, everything.

Chris pulled his phone away for a moment, checking to make sure he was still connected. Tom had gone quiet after he’d mentioned it… “Tom?”

He replied quickly, snapped out of his thoughts. _“Oh, sorry, sorry. I just didn’t want to take any more of your time. I mean, I was sure Elsa would be needing you at some point, and I would hate to intrude…”_

Chris wondered why Tom seemed so quick to defend himself. He wasn’t acting overly-defensive, more like he didn’t want to say why he _really_ left so early. He only knew because he’d acted the same so often by now. Perhaps he was just imagining it. “Well… okay. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to go like that.”

_“I understand. I’ll remember that next time.”_ Chris smiled when he said ‘next time’. However, now with nothing to say and the subject dropped, he was left tapping his pen against the desk again. He tried to think of something else to talk about. If anything, he didn’t want to leave the conversation like this on such a low note. 

Tom ended up speaking first; it turned out he didn’t want to leave the conversation like it was either. _“You know, I would never have taken you for one to be into Shakespeare.”_

Chris smirked. “Oh, is that so? Do I not look the type?” He asked teasingly, making Tom shake his head in amusement. 

_“Of course, you’re just too tall and too muscular for the job!”_

“Too tall?!” Chris gasped dramatically. “You’re practically my height!”

_“Just short, I’m afraid; I hate to tell you that you’re a quarter of an inch too tall to be in a Shakespeare play.”_

“Damn, that’s really too bad.” He rolled his eyes, Tom still laughing on the other end. “You know, Lillian told me that you really love Shakespeare. I know you were into theater in university… why’d you stop?”

Tom sighed. _“You know, it really came down to the choice… I loved theater. I really did. I loved acting different characters and I loved making the play come to life. I devoted so much time to it… but in my heart, I knew I needed to do this. Be a psychologist, go into counseling. I needed to help people.”_

“Why’s that…?”

_“Well… after my parents divorced. That’s when I knew.”_ Chris was shocked to hear it. Tom didn’t seem like the kind of person to come from a divorced family. But one could never really tell, could they? _“I wanted to fix my parents. I wanted them back together.”_ He laughed softly in recollection. _“I remember giving pictures of them holding hands, each to my mom and my dad. They knew my intentions were good, but I couldn’t change what had happened. I couldn’t force them to be together again and take me and my sisters out for ice cream and go to the movies like a family again. It wasn’t my decision to make. When I was in university, I had time to think… I spent all of my youth wondering what I did wrong. I wanted to know why my parents didn’t love each other. Why they were unhappy together. It wasn’t until I was actually in graduate school that I realized that I couldn’t just fix people. There wasn’t any way to do it. I can’t force people to love each other and I can’t will them back together. It has to happen between_ them. _And sometimes, their love isn’t meant to be. That’s why I don’t promise to fix things, Chris. I can’t give people hope that it’s possible or not possible. They’ll believe it, and if it doesn’t go the way they want it to, they’ll be so disappointed. They’ll have tried so hard to force themselves to be with someone they didn’t truly love, or even force themselves apart because of some counselor’s judgment on their relationship. It’s like forcing oil and water together. No matter how hard you try, it’s going to separate. It’s not my call, it’s nature, and if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”_

Chris took in his words, thinking them over and understanding why Tom chose the path he did. However, he had to ask: “What do you think of me and Elsa, then?”

Tom’s voice was stern. _“Chris, I can’t answer that. It’s unfair to you, Elsa, and India.”_

“Tom, do you think it’s going to work?”

_“I’m not answering that.”_ He sighed into the phone. _“Whether I think it will or will not work, I don’t intend on ever telling you. That’s that.”_

“I know… I know.” Chris knew Tom was right; of course he was, as always. 

_“My advice to tell Elsa how you feel still stands, you know.”_

“Yeah…” As if that wasn’t a large cloud looming over him. “I can’t figure out how to tell her. I just… need to figure out how to say it.”

_“I know. And if you need me, I’m here. I can help you through that.”_

He smiled. “Thanks.”

_“Anything, Chris.”_ He could tell the call was winding down, and he stood stretching out a bit. Beyond the door he heard Elsa walk in through the door, India’s voice carrying through the house as she told her about her day. 

“Well, I think I have to go… India’s back.”

_“You’ll give her my best, won’t you?”_

“Of course.”

_“Good. Now, I’ll be seeing you both on Thursday, yes?”_

Just another thing to look forward to. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_“Oh, the world? You must really enjoy it then, hmm?”_

“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes. 

_“You love it, don’t deny it!”_

“Alright, alright, you got me, it’s not _that_ bad.” 

_“That’s right. Now, I’ll let you go. Have a good day, Chris.”_

“You too, Tom.” They both hung up, and Chris left his office with a smile on his face, walking out into the main area and getting down on his knee to greet his little girl.

\--------------------

Tom walked past Lillian, his nerves acting up as he made his way towards his office, his pace brisk. He shut the door behind himself and leaned against the dark wood, breathing in and out to calm himself. Something about seeing Chris again was making him an emotional mess. “It’s just a meeting. Just like usual.” He rubbed his face and groaned, knowing that it wasn’t _just_ a meeting. Seeing Chris was the only think keeping him motivated for the time being. He shouldn’t want to see him so much. He shouldn’t have become so attached to him. But by now, it was far too late.

“I can’t believe I’ve let this happen…” He sighed to himself, walking back and forth through the open room, trying to kill time before Chris and Elsa arrived. He had to remain professional. It wasn’t his place to become close to his client. His client who already had a wife and a child! Thinking about it frustrated Tom, how easily he’d become so attracted to Chris. He was gorgeous and charming, that much was obvious, but he was something else entirely. Humorous and lovely and wonderful in every way. God, just thinking about him made Tom’s heart speed up. 

He couldn’t allow that, though. This was about doing what he could for Elsa and Chris. Not for himself. 

They arrived sooner than he would have liked, with Elsa knocking on the door and Tom quickly opening it for them both. “Please, come in,” he gestured for them to enter, and they did, sitting on the couch. Closer than last time, he noticed. 

Chris shifted a bit, trying to keep his eyes away from Tom. He knew what looking at him did to him, and he really didn’t want to risk it right now. 

“Tom, I’m so sorry to hear about your family emergency last week,” Elsa said, and Chris tensed. He’d never told Tom that he lied to Elsa about his emergency. “I hope everything’s okay.”

Tom looked surprised for a moment, then glanced at Chris, who briefly averted his gaze before meeting his blue-green eyes, ashamed. “Oh,” he said finally, catching himself. “Uh, thank you.” He laughed off his stumbling words sitting in his chair. “I never really hear that from clients, so… thank you. Really, that means a great deal. Everything is fine now, I’m happy to say.”

Chris couldn’t believe how smooth Tom’s lie had been. He’d caught on quickly. “That’s so good to hear,” Elsa said, smiling comfortingly. 

Tom smiled. “So, shall we get to business? Tell me how things are going.”

“It’s great,” Elsa said, and Chris was even taken aback by the answer. Great? “We did have a fight last week… and it really made the house tense. I was really worried for a while, but… Chris came up to me on Thursday and we talked it out. And…” She glanced at Chris, and Chris looked nothing less than dumbstruck, unsure what she was asking for. For some reason she felt it to be permission enough, and she turned to Tom and said, “We’ve finally made that connection again… the, uh… more physical one.”

Chris wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“Oh,” Tom was also at a loss for words. It wasn’t because he’d never heard something like that, either. “I… that’s good, isn’t it? That you two are… reconnecting?”

“Yes. I think so, at least. We’re talking more and not just shouting at each other… I can’t even begin to tell you how happy it’s made me.”

Tom smiled, though he knew it was forced. “That’s wonderful, Elsa, you sound really happy. I’m glad to hear it.” Finally, he looked over at Chris, wondering if he had any input. He was awfully quiet.

“Yeah, I mean... it’s good. For us.” He smiled at Elsa, and she took his hand, grinning now. 

“I agree.”

“That’s good. Wonderful.” Tom couldn’t convince himself of that even with real effort. 

From then, the meeting went on from there, talking about their fight (not how it started; Chris was reluctant to delve into those details) and how they fixed it. Tom advised to no longer push things under the rug like they’d done, but to keep communicating. The entire time, Chris was sat with a pit in his stomach, wishing Elsa hadn’t revealed that they’d begun being intimate again. He would never have said anything to Tom. Chris was more than interested in him, that much he knew, and the last thing he wanted Tom to know was that he was having sex with his wife again. But what could he do? It wasn’t as easy as telling Elsa that he didn’t want to have sex with her anymore. Things would fall apart before he could explain himself properly.

By the time their appointment had ended, they exchanged goodbyes, Chris letting Elsa leave first before following after her. Tom stood by the door, putting on his best smile, bidding Chris a good night. 

Chris looked back at Tom, no longer smiling since Elsa was no longer looking. He didn’t know if there was anything to say, but all he wanted to do was apologize. However, Tom would ask why and that wouldn’t go well at all. Instead, he waved, and Tom did the same, sighing as soon as Chris turned his back and rounded the corner.

He was relieved that it was his last meeting for the night. He closed the door slowly and tidied up idly, now alone with his thoughts. He was losing it. He had to be. Chris had completely taken over everything he did or said, and he’d known him for what, a little more than a month? It was hard to come to terms with how fast everything was going, but something told him there was no turning back.

And somehow, he figured that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TOM, AND A RIDICULOUS APOLOGY TO YOU ALL. ._. 
> 
> I know, I’m a terrible person. There’s really no beating around the bush in that regard.
> 
> Nevertheless, here is the super-atrociously long chapter of Marriage Counseling.I kid you not, I think it’s 20 pages and very briefly edited because I was going to edit out bits but I deemed it all necessary. This is why I can’t edit anything. Also, I am no longer making promises about how soon I’ll get chapters out. Now, it’s just too hard to tell. However, I WILL say that this upcoming chapter is one I’ve looked forward to for a while. That’s gotta mean more inspiration to write it, yeah? All the same, I do have another story I’m working on with a great and fabulous friend, homesweethomicide13, called Fallen Angel, and that’s gonna take some time too. (Plus he’s gonna skin me if I don’t get it out this weekend since he’s been like IT’S BEEN A MONTH WHAT ARE YOU DOING, so yeah. He already said we’d have words if I didn’t get this done tonight. :| So I aim to keep him pleased. XD)
> 
> SO, in general, please be gentle with me when it comes to publishing dates. XD


	5. Chapter 5

Days at the office were anything but eventful.

Chris would sit at his desk and zone out for a good fifteen minutes before actually realizing that he had work to do. Of course, he could take anything he didn’t finish that day home and work on it then, but he risked losing time he could be spending with India.

His mind seemed persistent on thinking about Tom, however.

He wouldn’t go so far as to say that their relationship (as friends, he reminded himself) was stepping to the next level, but it was no lie to say that things were changing. Maybe they were just becoming closer (again, as friends), getting to know each other and enjoy one another’s company. They’d always enjoyed their time together, though. They could talk about anything and share things that even their closest friends didn’t know. Their trust was running deeper than before. They’d held hands in the market, for God’s sake, and if that wasn’t a step further, then he didn’t know what was. Maybe he was overthinking everything and maybe he was making something out of nothing, but to Chris, things really were taking a far more interesting turning.

… Right, right. As friends.

Though convincing himself of that was becoming more of a chore than a friendly reminder. He had to shake his head to make the alluring images of Tom in that jacket, reaching up to put the book away, exposing the soft flesh of his sculpted hip disappear from his mind. Chris often wondered what it would feel like, not only to run his hands over his skin, but to grasp his hip and pull him closer as he brought his body flush against his own. He constantly wondered where he’d like to be touched, what made him shiver helplessly, because _god_ the mere thought of that made Chris shiver as well. Despite his mind running rampant with these kinds of thoughts, not all of them were fantasies of Tom and himself in the bedroom anymore: it was almost like Chris imagined Tom completely taking Elsa’s place in his life. He saw them walking in the street, taking India to school, or even shopping.  He imagined all sorts of scenarios with himself and Tom, waking up with him and making breakfast, sending him on his way to work like the most cliché pair of newlyweds.

He didn’t mind them though. He liked the thought of waking up beside Tom or lying with him on the couch. It was what he wanted: to be happy and content with himself. With Elsa, he just felt tense and nervous and wasn’t sure what to say or do around her. He knew she was making an honest effort, but Chris now wished she wouldn’t. The uncomfortable feelings had only increased over the past week, and Chris had no one to blame but himself.

He felt a rush of guilt spread through him just at the thought of what he did, and he had to hide his face in his hands, hoping the memories would just _go away_. He didn’t want to think about what he’d done. Sometimes, he just wanted to take Elsa by the shoulders and shake her and tell her that it was _over_ and _nothing_ could be done to fix them. It sure as hell would make for a simpler way to make her hate him.

He leaned back in his chair again and sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. And there it was again: he was exhausted, he wanted to leave work, and all he wanted to do was see Tom.

Maybe… maybe he should indulge.

No, no, he shouldn’t... It wasn’t right.  Not to Elsa. Not to India.

In the back of his mind, he wondered what Tom would tell him to do.

\-------------------

 

He’d managed to make it through the day without _too_ many distractions and picked up India on the way back as per Elsa’s request, smiling as she talked on and on about her day. She had an endless list of exciting things that happened to her, her eyes alight as she told her regaling tales. Chris never wanted her to stop talking about what she’d done. He sometimes regretted having to put her in daycare, but she seemed to enjoy it, and for the sake of his and Elsa’s jobs, it was necessary.

He carried her inside – she didn’t break her story for an instant – and set her on the counter, glancing at the clock. It was nearly four, and dinner would need to be ready relatively soon. Polite as always, he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her, letting her play with his hair while she talked about the incident with the crayons, and was willing to wait until she was done to ask what she wanted to eat.

“… and then we put everything away and then you came and got me.” There was a short moment of silence, Chris almost unable to believe that she was done.

“Is that all that happened?” He asked teasingly.

She thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah!”

“Well, sounds like you had an exciting day, huh?”

“It was fun! I like the kids there at the daycare. They’re nice.” She smiled, and Chris kissed her forehead.

“I’m so glad you say so, sweetheart.” He looked at the clock again, seeing that it was a quarter after now. “Now, what did you want for dinner?”

“Ice cream and chocolate sauce!”

He laughed. “No ice cream and chocolate sauce, unfortunately.”

She pouted. “But I want it…” She sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her hands, blinking her big blue eyes at him. Chris had learned better by now.

“How about macaroni?”

India perked up. “And chocolate sauce?”

Chris furrowed his brows. India grinned.

\--------------------

Elsa didn’t want to know how it happened.

Chris and India eating what appeared to be macaroni out of one large bowl, each holding a smaller bowl in their hands. Their faces were another matter entirely. They were covered in… chocolate. Smears on their cheeks and noses and foreheads. India’s hair was messily pulled back while Chris’ remained in its bun, but the chocolate still managed to find its way into the fringes of their blonde hair. They were talking between one another, dipping the macaroni into the chocolate and eating it, India giggling and Chris laughing and shaking his head.

“Um…” Elsa said, stepping into the kitchen. “Is this… dinner?”

Chris’ smile faded for a moment when he heard her voice, but India was quick to speak. “We’re having macaroni and chocolate sauce! Mommy, it’s really good!”

“Macaroni and… chocolate?” She gave Chris a look, and his stomach knotted uncomfortably. He hoped she wasn’t upset by this…

“Wanna try it?” India dipped a piece of macaroni into the chocolate and handed it out to her. Elsa walked over and looked at it as though it were a weird insect, frowning.

“It looks…”

“Just try it,” Chris jumped in, offering a quick smile. Elsa looked between them two of them and their chocolate.

Elsa took the macaroni between her fingers, inspecting it some more. India bounced where she was sat. "Try it, mommy!"

Elsa nodded, looking a bit nervous. Finally, she popped the macaroni in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. "... It's strange how that isn't as bad as I thought it would be..."

Chris couldn't help but laugh softly. "I thought the very same thing."

"We should have macaroni and chocolate all the time!" India beamed up at them hopefully, and Elsa kissed her hair. 

"We'll see what happens. Now, you two need to clean up, don't you?" She smiled knowingly at India, who only giggled. "You've got something on your nose, I think," she poked India's nose playfully, making her laugh. 

"I left some of the macaroni unharmed, if you wanted the normal stuff." Chris gestured to the small pot of regular macaroni and cheese. Elsa smiled and thanked him, telling them that she was going to change into something more comfortable. India looked up at him and then pointed to his face. "You've got something on your nose too."

Chris raised his eyebrow. "Do I?"

"Yeah! It's right there!" She pointed to his nose again. 

"I don't think so." He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a small cloth, walking over to the sink and getting it damp. He came back to where India was sat and wiped once at her nose, making her pull back suddenly. "Ah, see? You're the one who had stuff on your nose." He showed her the smeared chocolate on the rag. 

"But you have some too!" She grabbed the cloth and stood on the counter, wiping at his nose and showing him the chocolate. "Look!"

"Well... _maybe_ you were right..." He grinned.

"Of course I'm right!" She huffed, pulling her hands on her hips. Chris laughed at her sassy behavior and took the rag again, cleaning her face of all the chocolate. He grinned when she tried to pull back, trying to convince him that she was fine and didn’t have chocolate on her face. Chris of course wouldn’t stop and wiped at her face until most of the chocolate was gone. Finally he allowed her to take the rag and clean his face as well, making him smile when she poked at all the places that had chocolate on them. “You’re messy, daddy.”

“I know, sweetheart. What am I ever going to do with myself?” He took the rag from her hands and dabbed at her nose playfully. She giggled and he took her into his arms, walking her from the kitchen and towards her room. They’d had plenty to eat as it was. “I’m gonna go clean up. Maybe change into a shirt that’s not so covered in chocolate, alright?” He smiled at her and she nuzzled into his shoulder.

He set her down at the beginning of the hallway, shooing her along. He smiled as she found her way to her room and turned on his heel to clean up. He put the spare chocolate away and set the used dishes in the sink, setting aside a serving of pasta for Elsa and storing the rest. He was drying his just-washed hands before someone was suddenly pressed against his back, making him gasp sharply and tense up.

“Relax,” Elsa said softly, her slim hands circling his waist and resting over his abdomen. She linked her fingers together, making him feel trapped in her grip. There was no relaxing, not now.

“You know,” she started, her voice a low murmur. Chris could sense the trouble for him coming a mile away. “I thought maybe, this weekend, we could have India stay with the babysitter…” She drew idle patterns over his shirt, making him shiver uncomfortably.  “We could have some time to ourselves…”

“This… this weekend?” Chris’ voice was just as low, only out of panic as his mind raced for some sort of excuse. He wasn’t going through that again. There was no chance in hell.

“Yeah,” she said, pressing her lips into his shoulder briefly. She drew one hand back and pulled at the back of the collar of his shirt, revealing more skin as she leant up and placed a kiss there on the base of his neck. God, why did it have to feel so terrible… “Just you and me. And we won’t have to worry about being so quiet…”

Oh god.

“Elsa, I…”

“I was thinking I’d call tomorrow, to make sure. But I’m sure it’ll work.” He could hear the smile in her voice. He heard the hope in her words, and it killed him. He took a deep breath, biting his lip and closing his eyes. He had to do it. Something about it made it overwhelmingly daunting, but he couldn’t think of any other way around it.

“I… I can’t.”

She pulled back a bit, though her arm remained around his waist. “You can’t…?”

“I… I’m sorry.” He sighed and kept his eyes strictly shut. He couldn’t fathom looking into her eyes. He didn’t want to lie straight to her face again, not if he could help it.

“Well… why not?”

“I have a meeting… a business meeting. It’s out of town, and it’s, uh… it’s this weekend.” He swallowed thickly, hoping it didn’t sound too atrocious. People had meetings out of town, right?

“You’ve never had a meeting out of town before…” She seemed suspicious, and Chris knew he had to face her. He turned in her arms, his eyes full of sympathy. If only she’d known it was sympathy for being dishonest, and not because he felt bad for ruining her special plans for the weekend.

“I know, I know. We have this client, and they want to negotiate these terms for this new contract with us… advertising stuff, marketing… it’s at a hotel, a couple hundred miles out from here, so… it’s gonna keep me from home. Over the weekend. This weekend.” She looked up at him with confusion, her frown set with disappointment. After a small moment of silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly, throwing in, “I’m sorry.”

Elsa didn’t move for a second, but slowly nodded. “No, no, it’s… it’s okay.” She put on a smile, and Chris returned it with some effort. She was faking it, he could easily tell, but so was he. At least Chris had more practice with it to make it seem believable. Elsa stepped back then, going to fetch the pasta he’d set out for her. He watched her almost sadly, wishing he didn’t have to lie to keep away from her like this. He hated to disappoint her like that. He ran a hand through his hair and slowly stepped out of the kitchen, the room having been draped in a heavy silence after that.

Chris, without anything better to do, waited in his office until Elsa ate her dinner. First because he still had dishes to clean, and second because he just didn’t want to see her. Not yet.

He paced his office, his hands shoved in his pockets, not realizing what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into. Now he had to leave for the entire weekend. What would he even do? Where would he go? He didn’t want to rent out a hotel for the night (paying that much just because he didn’t want to have sex with his wife seemed like a bit of a stretch). He could stay at a friend’s place, but… he didn’t want to impose, and eventually word would get out about his lie to Elsa (his friends weren’t the best at containing their gossip) and that would ruin everything.

Well, not like things weren’t ruined in the first place; just ruined faster than he intended them to be ruined.

He pulled his chair out and slumped into it, letting out a long breath. Maybe he’d just figure out where to go later. He still had a few days. For now, there were dishes to be done and a wife to avoid. A basic summation of his current life.

\--------------------

 

The weekend was coming faster than he’d anticipated. In one sense, he was glad, because it meant a day away from his wife (which sounded _awful_ at first, but he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t true). However, in another sense, he still didn’t have a clue of where to go. It was Thursday and he had to be gone by tomorrow evening. He hadn’t even packed yet. He’d considered calling Robert – it had been ages since they’d seen one another – but he just didn’t want to. Robert was the ‘sit back and have a good time’ kind of guy, and not the ‘good time’ someone like him should be having. Chris just wanted to sleep.

He also tried not to think about the fact that he wasn’t feeling entirely bad about leaving Elsa in the first place.

Nevertheless, he was running out of time, and the hotel seemed to be the only option left. He found it odd that he was so paranoid about actually staying at a hotel, but he honestly did have some legitimate concerns: first of all, he never quite liked hotels. If he could find a way to _not_ pay to stay in a reused bed with reused sheets having been through god only knows what, he would. Secondly, he had a nagging paranoia that Elsa would look to see if he actually had checked into a hotel that was where he said it would be. She could call his office and ask where he was, ask about this mysterious business meeting and realize that he was lying.

It was stupid, honestly, but what else could he do?

He tossed his briefcase haphazardly onto the couch in the main room as he walked into his house, rubbing his face tiredly. It was already a long day, and staying three hours later because _someone_ accidentally deleted all of his work from the past few days wasn’t helping. He heard Elsa call for him, and he trudged to the kitchen, slumping into one of the chairs, sighing heavily.

India slid out of her chair and went over to him, sitting herself down by his leg and wrapping her arms loosely around it. Chris looked down at her, a light smile on his face. India only gazed up at him, and without even needing to exchange a word, he leaned forward and lifted her up onto his lap. She nuzzled into his chest. “Where were you, daddy?”

“Work,” he said, pushing some of her hair behind her ear.

“You never had to work really long like that before.”

“I had to do a lot of cleanup.” He leaned back again and closed his eyes, still holding India close. Thankfully she didn’t pry anymore, and the kitchen fell into a silence. He heard Elsa approaching though, and he hoped to god that she didn’t have anything to ask of him. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of the chair, as uncomfortable as it was to sit like this in.

“Don’t forget we have our meeting tonight, with Tom.”

Oh. Maybe he could get up for that. “Right… right, I didn’t forget.”

“Okay, good.” Suddenly she kissed his forehead without warning, and his eyes snapped open. He saw her smile and turn, assumingly to work on preparing dinner, but his body was still tense. _Just calm down, it was just a kiss on your forehead…_ But he remembered how the last kiss went, and that thought only served to petrify him further. Discomfort washed over him, and the urge to leave was filling him. It was like an anxiety, a worry that anything, a small touch or a kiss or even the wrong words could be taken in a completely different context, and Elsa would expect more than Chris was even intending to offer.

“I think I’m going to take a nap…” Chris gently pushed India from his lap and she quietly crawled down, going back to her own chair.

“You’re not going to eat dinner?”

“I’ll have something right before I go.” He slowly stood, pulling at his tie and walking towards the hallway. “I’ll be up in time to see Tom, I just… I need to sleep, Elsa.”

He heard her sigh, but it must have been more to herself than at Chris. “Okay, well… get whatever rest you need. I’ll put some in a bowl for you to heat up later.”

“Thanks.” He exited then, setting his phone alarm along the way, tossing it carelessly on the bedside table. He fell face-first into their memory-foam mattress that held way too many memories now and fell asleep within moments. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

He nearly slept through his alarm, having been roused by Elsa who told him that it had been going off for at least five minutes. He knew then that it was going to be a long night. Nevertheless, he reminded himself that he would be seeing Tom again, and that never failed to make his steps a bit livelier. He quickly ate his dinner and got into the car, having Elsa drive as he was still half-asleep.

This meeting wasn’t quite as embarrassing as the last – Elsa traded no bedroom secrets (though there weren’t really any to share, thank god) but did mention Chris’ workload taking a toll on him. She told Tom – with a hand resting firmly on Chris’ knee – that she would be there to support him, always. Her loyalty to him only made him want to jump out of a window. It just wasn’t fair to her anymore.

Chris didn’t talk as much – Tom had grown used to that, either because he understood why he chose not to or just accepted that getting the words out of him wasn’t that easy – and watched Tom most of the time, nodding when necessary and passing a small smile to Elsa when she said something endearing about him. Tom, though his smile was bright and his words were encouraging, seemed off that night. Not overly noticeably (surely if Tom had his way he’d ask Chris why he was staring so much), but Chris saw it. He appeared tense, a bit forced, and he wondered if he was just seeing things. Chris had a feeling he was always looking too deeply into anything regarding Tom, imagining all sorts of ways he could come to his rescue and lead him away on a white horse to their perfect life together.

Maybe that was pushing it. All the same, Chris had a frown set on his features by the end of their time together, Elsa standing and making her way out, Chris once again left behind. Not that he minded. Any time with Tom was time well spent. Chris felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced down at Tom’s slender hand, following it to his arm, his shoulder, and up to his wonderful, gorgeous face. “I’ll see you next week, yes?”

“Uh, yeah.” Chris smiled, genuinely. “Next week.”

“Still wouldn’t miss it for the world?” Chris laughed at that, and Tom appeared mildly relieved that he’d caught on to the joke.

“No doubt.” Chris patted Tom’s back, rubbing his shoulders in a friendly manner, but his hand didn’t drop. He felt some nerves swell in his stomach, the question dancing on the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked. There was something wrong with Tom, and he wanted to know. Needed to, really.

“Is there something wr—”

“Are you alr—”

They both stared at one another, stopping as soon as they’d spoken simultaneously. Maybe Chris wasn’t the only one with something on his mind.

“Sorry,” Tom apologized swiftly, his hand finally dropping from his shoulder. Chris however remained persistent. He wasn’t losing contact with him just yet. “You go ahead first.”

“Oh, well… I was just wondering if something was wrong.” Chris tried not to make his question seem too imperative, shrugging lightly.

“Wrong?” Tom asked, innocent. “No, of course not, I’m fine!” He smiled, but Chris still wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure…? I know you’re my counselor, but you can still talk to me.”

“Of course, I know that.” Tom patted his shoulder again. Chris wondered if it was his imagination again when he felt Tom lean back slightly into his hand. “If there was anything wrong, you’d be the first to know.”

Chris was surprised at that. “The… the first?”

Tom realized what he’d said. After a moment, he nodded again, quickly. He seemed sure of himself now. “Y-yeah. The first.”

Still taken aback by that, he turned his gaze away, trying to find something else to look at before he ended up leaning over and kissing the living daylights out of him. If he had his way, he’d slam that door shut and push Tom right against his, bringing their bodies right against one another’s and leaving little room for discretion. He cleared his throat to push the thought aside, bringing himself back to the conversation – or lack thereof. He was unsure of what to say, how to start. Saying nothing could push Tom away, and Chris certainly didn’t want that. “Um…” he started, saying whatever came to mind now. “I just… I’m not gonna lie, you surprised me there.”

“I did?” He looked crushed then, and Chris realized that maybe silence could’ve been better. “I… I’m sorry, I—”

Chris stopped him there. “No, no, no! I mean… I’m honored.” He faced him more directly, his hand now moving from his shoulder to his side, dangerously close to his waist, while his other hand rested over Tom’s right arm. “I never thought you, or anyone really, would ever say something like that, that’s all…”

“Oh...” Tom breathed a small sigh of relief. “Sorry, I thought I’d come on too strong, or something…”

“No, it’s all good.” He smiled again, trying to reassure him. Receiving a small smile back, he let his hand on his arm fall, looking out towards Elsa again. He didn’t want her to see how he was acting around Tom… maybe he should say goodbye now. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Tom again.

“I was going to ask the same of you…” He started, his eyes fixed upon the floor. Chris’ brows furrowed in confusion. “If you were alright.”

“Why do you ask?” Maybe Tom was concerned about him. More than a counselor would worry about a client. Perhaps more than a friend would worry about another friend.

“Just…” He laughed lightly, shrugged. “It’s ridiculous, honestly. I mean, I guess you seem tired. Really tired.”

He didn’t even think before he spoke. “I am, actually.”

Tom lifted his gaze, looking almost surprised. “How come?”

“Well, I had a long day at work today. So, I’m still sorta half-asleep from the nap I took earlier.” He shrugged it off, but Tom seemed to take it to heart.

“Chris, if you were tired, you don’t have to come here…” His heart wasn’t in it, however.

“C’mon, don’t you remember anything I tell you? You said it yourself: wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Tom beamed at him, and Chris finally grinned. He felt the weight lifted from his shoulders again. He always felt that around Tom. Chris, almost in a preemptive goodbye, patted Tom’s shoulder kindly, finally pulling away. He hadn’t even realized that he was standing so close. “Well, I think I’d better go… don’t wanna keep you here all night.”

Tom laughed through his nose softly, shaking his head. “Oh, I assure you, I wouldn’t mind it.”

Chris didn’t even bother trying to suppress the butterflies in his stomach. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, somewhat teasingly. Tom now patting his arm, almost pushing him towards the door.

“Now, off with you; I’d like to go home now.” Chris laughed at that, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, I thought you enjoyed my company!” He looked over his shoulder, pouting at him. Down the hallway, Elsa and Lillian watched; Lillian, with honest humor, and Elsa, not so much.

“Oh, I don’t have the slightest clue as to what you’re talking about! Off you go!” He now firmly pushed on Chris’ shoulders, making him stumble, but it was all in good fun. Elsa could’ve sworn it was the happiest she’d seen Chris in months.

“Whatever Tom, whatever!” He waved his hand behind him dismissively, and Tom laughed, shaking his head, shutting the door behind him. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and approached Lillian and Elsa, giving them both a smile. “Sorry you had to see that,” he rolled his eyes amusedly, shrugging his shoulders.

Elsa gave a small, single laugh. “Are you ready to go?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He said goodbye to Lillian and followed Elsa to the car. Something had shifted in the atmosphere around them. The once loving and caring women he’d known as his wife was suddenly rigid, her movements suggesting held-back anger. Chris already feared asking about it, but there really was no chance to ignore it. As soon as they were out on the road, he glanced over at her, concerned. “You’re… quiet.”

Elsa didn’t look at him, her grip on the steering wheel tight. “You seem to get along with Tom well.”

He frowned. He hated where the conversation sounded like it was going, but he kept calm. “It’s better than how all of this started.”

Elsa shrugged. “True.” Her words were short, only making Chris’ stomach churn uncomfortably.

 “What’s wrong with that? Would you rather I not like him?”

“No. I just can’t get my head around how you can seem so happy with him when you’re so fucking miserable with me.”

Well, _that_ was uncalled for. He flinched back, feeling offended on Tom’s behalf. “What, so I make a friend and suddenly it’s his fault we’re, according to you, ‘fucking miserable’?”

She sighed exasperatedly. “I didn’t say any of that: I _said_ , you’re happier with him than me. I don’t _get_ that.”

“Is it some sort of competition now? Tom’s a great guy, okay? Don’t try and shoulder this blame on him, whether you say it out loud or not.” After a moment, Chris turned to face her, still in disbelief at what she was saying. “And why are you even saying this? I have one small moment of laughter with him and suddenly I’m happier with him than you? We’ve had a ton of good times, haven’t we?”

“Yeah? Was one of those times about two weeks ago when we’d gone out shopping?”

Chris froze.

She looked over at him expectantly and then turned her eyes back to the road. “Yeah, Lillian had nothing but good things to say then. How you two had apparently talked for a good hour. No wonder you didn’t even pick up something that day and almost ignored my phone call;you were too busy talking to your new best friend Tom!”

“Elsa, just—”

“But that’s not the first time you two have run into each other, is it? After all, she mentioned how you two had stopped by a few weeks back after having coffee; when was _that_ , Chris?!”

Suddenly his anger was shifting to anxiety, and he wished he hadn’t lashed out like he did. He felt the car get smaller and smaller around him. Focusing one anything else except Elsa, he looked out the window, steadying his breathing. He worried about Elsa finding out like this, through anger. He worried about what could happen to Tom.

“Well?!” Elsa demanded, and Chris flinched, his breathing shaky. He just wanted to _get out of this fucking car_ before he screamed.

He bit the inside of his cheek, praying to god he could keep quiet, just admit his wrongs and be done with it. But something was on the verge of breaking inside of him, and it had almost nothing to do wuit guilt or regret. He felt angry. He mustered up the words and sat up, turning to look at her, speaking sharply. “Look, we ran into each other. On the day you, me and India went shopping, we ran into each other and started talking. That was _it_.” He practically spat the words out. “And about a few weeks back? Again, coincidence.” Mostly coincidence, but there was not taking it back now. “We ran into each other when I went to get coffee. Is that so fucking hard to believe? I run into the guy and suddenly he and I are responsible for all of… _this?!_ ” He gestured between them, his anger slipping out through his words faster than he could control it. The words hardly registered as he shouted. “You really can’t believe that I can have a friend, can you? You can’t stand that it’s our counselor, too. I don’t know what to think Elsa, but I can’t get my fucking head around why you’re _jealous_ of Tom.” The car went quiet, Elsa taking his words in with defeated silence. He could’ve spoken again when she didn’t reply, accusing her of being suspicious and of accusing him and Tom of pure coincidence. He didn’t, however; he said what needed to be said. When they pulled the car into the driveway, neither one of them got out. Chris sighed and lowered his eyes to his feet, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. Now he just felt drained. “What else do you want me to say, Elsa? Why does this bother you so much?”

She took a deep breath, her hands dropping into her lap. “I just…” She sniffled, reaching up to push her hair back behind her ear. He could see that her eyes were wet too. “I want to know why you can laugh and have a conversation with him, and not me. Why you can just be funny and dorky and the man I married with _him_. It’s so stupid, I know, but…” She wiped her eyes, finally turning to face him. “I just want what we had back so badly. I’m probably just making something out of nothing because I miss it so badly… I guess I got worked up.”

“That still didn’t give you some sort of right to just yell at me like that. Accuse me and Tom of… whatever, really. Just because we get along, doesn’t mean that we’re somehow closer. You’re my _wife_ , Elsa, you’re supposed to trust me.” Said the pot calling the kettle black.

Elsa nodded, ashamed. “I know, and I’m sorry…”

“I don’t even care if you apologize to me or not right now.” He watched her, noting the slight shaking in her shoulders. It didn’t change how he felt. It didn’t make him feel regret for what he said. “Tom deserves one too.” He waited expectantly. Eventually, she nodded again.

“Y-you’re right…” She sniffled again, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “Tom too. I’m sorry.”

Chris turned his gaze out the window, closing his eyes as Elsa unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbing her purse. “I won’t see you in the morning, probably. S-so… have a good trip when you leave tomorrow. Don’t forget to pick up India before you go.” She was quick to leave, making her way into the house. Chris stayed in the car, one hand rubbing his forehead, a headache coming on. He could take Elsa blaming him about how separated they were (to a point), but he wasn’t going to sit there and allow her to bring Tom into this. A genuinely good guy like Tom who wanted nothing more than to help people couldn’t possibly do one bad thing in this world.

He leaned forward, combing his hands through his hair tiredly, wishing he didn’t have to go inside. If he could be anywhere but here, he would leave in that very moment. India was waiting for him though, and he could never willingly be apart from her. He straightened after collecting himself, trudging inside slowly and getting ready for bed. As soon as he tucked India in and changed, he fell into his own bed, not speaking a single word to Elsa.

 

\--------------------

 

He was fucked.

The problem from the day before had carried into the next. Not only had the newest temp – they figured out who it was via a swift confession – deleted Chris’ work from the past few days, but he managed to somehow lose all of the data for the big weekly project as well. After a Chris dealt with the temp with every manner of professionalism he could muster ( _“Your ass is fucking_ gone, _you dipshit_!!”), he set about fixing the problem in whatever way he could. Papers were scattered around the office and assistants were scurrying about, running around with stacks of hard-copy documents and updates, finding the missing files and replacing the outdated ones. The newest run of the project was due in four hours, and Chris swore they’d be _lucky_ if they got half of it officially completed.

There wasn’t a moment where his office was left unoccupied by anyone but himself; he ordered that no one take a lunch break that day, and overtime was out of his own check. By the time the clock read the usual time he left for home, and there were still secretaries with questions about what went where and who to talk to about what, he managed to push them all out of his office, demanding five minutes of privacy.

Well. No time like the present.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number slowly, holding his breath as the phone rang. He didn’t want to do this. This was the _last_ thing he needed, but there wasn’t any way around this. Elsa’s voice came on the other end, welcoming Chris with a dull ‘hello’.

“Elsa, hey, uh… Listen, I need to tell you something—”

_“Why can’t you pick up India.”_

He blinked, pausing for a long moment. “… Well, first, thank you for interrupting me, and second, it’s chaos here at the office, and I can’t make it back. I need you to call the babysitter and at least keep her for a little longer or something…”

_“Chris, do you somehow think your job is more important than mine?”_

“No, I—I didn’t say anything like that! Elsa, I’m just asking you to do this one thing!”

_“I have things to do too, you know.”_

“Elsa, I _know_ , but I really just need you to do this one thing, okay?”

_“Fine. Y’know what? Fine. I’ll just forget about my own job and do this because you’re too busy for our own daughter.”_

“Elsa, that’s not—”

She had already disconnected. Chris cursed, tossing the phone onto the floor without care, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wanted to leave. Leave work, leave the city, leave _Elsa._ He wanted to get out and just get away. He wanted that business trip to be real right about now. A small knock on the door brought him back to his senses and he beckoned the next person in, fetching his phone and sitting back at his desk. “This better be good, ‘cause I’m in no mood for shitty news right now.”

\--------------------

 

When he finally did get home, carrying a half-eaten Subway sandwich in his hands, he went straight to his office, pulling out the briefcase he’d set aside for the ‘trip’. He set the sandwich down and tossed in the last few things he knew he wouldn’t need: laptop, phone charger, a notebook and a pen for good measure, and a few business cards. Everything he’d need to fake a meeting.

He could feel Elsa’s presence without looking back at her. Quickly busying himself with his sandwich, he closed the set the briefcase on his desk and feigned looking for something else to add to it. When Elsa apparently didn’t sense his need for privacy, he forfeited and shut the case. The sandwich was set down yet again, and he faced her, dreading it.

“Managed to find time for food?”

“Elsa, don’t do this now…”

“No, you’re right.” She shrugged carelessly. “Why bother talking about our problems anymore? You never want to.”

“Look, Elsa, I’m tired, I’ve had a long day, I don’t want to talk about this. I have to leave soon anyways so I’ll be out of your way, alright? You can enjoy your weekend without me since I’m sure you’re dying for it now after all the shit that happened last night and earlier today.” Chris strode out of the office, his shoulder brushing against Elsa’s. He went upstairs to the master bedroom and literally threw together a small luggage bag of clothing and other necessities. Elsa was hot on his heels apparently, because as soon as he was in the bathroom grabbing whatever was within arm’s reach, he heard the bedroom door shut.

“Are you really going to try to make this out to be my fault _again?!_ ” Thankfully she kept her distance from Chris. He tried not to think about what could happen if she’d grabbed his arm or something.

“Well, seeing as you’re the one who had to get jealous of me and Tom last night for god only knows what reason, yeah, I’m gonna say it’s your fault this time.” He glared at her as he turned on his heel to throw more unnecessary things into his bag. Elsa sighed behind him, and Chris knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Chris, look… I know I’ve said some things that were… I’ve said some bad things, okay? I apologized to you both last night. I wish I hadn’t said it, okay? But can we just…”

“Talk about it?” Chris scoffed, rolling his eyes. He turned around to face her, not willing to deal with her ‘sudden change of heart’ where she tried to talk things out or get him to open up. He wasn’t going to stand and take being accused of being the one who was to blame. Elsa was always the first one to try and get on Chris’ good side again. She always wanted to appear like the shining example out of the two of them, didn’t she? “No. And you wanna know why? It’s because right now, this talking between us? It’s obviously not working.”

“Well if you weren’t interrupting me and making everything I say out to be either a joke or an insult, then maybe we’d be getting somewhere.” She folded her arms, her soft expression gone.

Chris laughed bitterly. “Oh, I get it: so you interrupt me and I have to take it, but I interrupt you and suddenly I’m to blame for all this?”

“Chris, I never said that…” She rubbed her forehead tiredly.

“You didn’t have to.” He turned and closed the suitcase, zipping it up and taking it in his hands. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you Sunday.” With that, he strode out of the bedroom, making a beeline for his office and grabbing his briefcase. Once he had those, he was out the door in a flash, throwing his bags in the trunk of his car carelessly and shutting it closed promptly. Right before he opened the driver-side door, he checked for his phone in his pocket, realizing that he’d left it inside. “Shit…” He didn’t want to go back, but he had to now. Who knew what imbecile from work could be calling him with a ‘work related emergency’. He muttered another curse beneath his breath and made his way back inside, finding his phone in his office. He probably left it there in his anger after Elsa had worked him up like she did…  Nevertheless, he had it now. He pocketed his phone and turned off his computer for good measure, making sure he had everything he needed one last time before swiftly walking towards the doorway. He didn’t have a single intention to stop, right until he saw something out of the corner of his eye and stopped dead in his tracks, gasping in surprise and cursing as he moved quickly to step around India. He braced himself against the doorway with a hand to his chest, letting out a breath of relief when he saw that she wasn’t hurt. “God, India, you scared me…”

She averted his gaze to the floor, muttering a small ‘sorry’. Chris’ rage subsided briefly, watching her withdrawn demeanor as she refused to look up at him. He hadn’t seen her like this in weeks, and it hurt to see it again. He slowly knelt down before her, reaching out and pushing some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Hey…” He angled his head to try and see her better. “India…?”

“Where are you going, daddy…?” She finally looked up at him, and he could clearly see the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want him to leave, and he knew why. She still needed her dad, and she needed them to stop fighting.

“Remember that business meeting I told you about…?” She was silent for a moment, but she soon nodded, and he smiled. “Well, I’m just going to that. I’ll be back Sunday, okay?”

India stepped closer, and Chris’ smiled faded as he pulled her against his chest. He could hear her sniffles as she buried her face into his shirt. He stood and picked her up, rocking her gently back and forth, kissing her hair occasionally, trying to comfort her. “I’ll call the house phone every night at nine, okay? Just so I can tell you goodnight.”

She nodded. “M’kay…” He balanced her on his hip and pushed her hair away from her face, wiping away her tears. He carried her into the kitchen, taking her towards the house phone and picking it up. He held it in front of her, showing it to her before placing it in her hands.

“Sunday,” he promised.

“Sunday.” She gave a small smile, and Chris smiled back (albeit sadly), planting a kiss on her forehead, he finally set her down.

“I gotta go now, sweetheart…” He ruffled her hair, making her giggle softly. It didn’t make him happy like he thought it would. “Daddy loves you, okay?”

“I love you too, daddy.” She hugged his leg for a few moments, stepping back and smiling up at him, that phone clutched right against her chest. She was holding to that promise, and he knew she wouldn’t set that phone down until it rang at nine that night.

Knowing he was time to go, he hesitated for just a moment, briefly wondering if he could take India with him. He couldn’t, however; Elsa wouldn’t let him. As much as he wanted to hold India for as long as he possibly could, he stepped away and opened the door, looking back and waving one last time. India waved back, and Chris had to turn and wipe at his eyes before she saw anything.

\--------------------

He didn’t make it down the street before he had to pull over at a corner, letting himself sob against the steering wheel of his car.

When did it get to this point? When did everything suddenly spiral out of control again to the point where he and Elsa were shouting at each other again, fighting over small things and holding grudges? When did this all even _start?_ Everything was so perfect and happy and even though a part of him wanted it back so goddamn badly, another part just wanted this chapter in his life to be over.

He cursed again and again, wiping his eyes on his tear-stained sleeves, sniffling pathetically and leaning back against the leather seat. His seemingly-perfect life, with his seemingly-perfect relationship with his wife, in this seemingly-perfect neighborhood in that seemingly-perfect house was probably the largest burden he’d ever bore onto his shoulders. He was tired of hiding, exhausted physically and emotionally. If he were honest with himself, he’d confess to anyone that he didn’t want to be with Elsa anymore. He didn’t want to be married to her anymore. Maybe it was his current state, or maybe he was finally realizing the truth of the matter, but he wanted it to be over. Officially. He didn’t love her, he wouldn’t love her again, and no matter how hard they tried, nothing would change that.

His chest grew tight again and he clenched his fists, growling loudly in frustration as a few more tears fell. He was starting to get a headache now, on top of everything else. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

He forced his sobs back, grabbing for his phone with shaky hands and swiftly found the first number that came to mind. He didn’t know who else to call now. He just wanted to talk, just wanted to hear everything he needed to hear, whether it was advice or not. The phone rang idly in his ear, but he hardly heard it; his head in his hand, he waited in silence, silently begging someone to pick up.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, Lillian? It’s Chris…”

_“Chris? Are you okay…? You sound a bit…”_

“I’m fine,” he quickly lied, rubbing his forehead. “Look, I just need… I need to ask, is… is Tom there?”

_“He’s in a meeting right now, actually…”_

Chris’ heart couldn’t have sunken lower. “Oh, okay…”

On the other line, Lillian was looking towards Tom’s door, biting her lip. Something was wrong, _seriously_ wrong, and she didn’t even need to ask to know that it was bad. _“Now, you stay on the phone, alright?”_

He frowned in confusion, but nodded. “Okay.”

Lillian took a deep breath, already dreading what would come. It was for the best, she knew. Chris needed Tom right now, and somehow she figured that Tom needed him, as well. She put Chris on hold and dialed for Tom’s room, biting her lip harder as she waited.

Tom sat up sharply as the phone rang. It seemed to catch his oh-so-favorite couple off guard too. The phone _never_ rang in a meeting, and that was a strict agreement between him and Lillian. His mind raced, setting his folder aside and standing. “If you’ll please excuse me, I’m so sorry, this never actually happens…” He went to fetch the phone, calling back, “perhaps you two and talk about what we were just discussing?” He grabbed the phone and answered, whispering frantically. “Lillian, for god’s sake, I love you so much but this had better be good. You _know_ how these two are, and—”

_“It’s Chris, on line two.”_

Tom froze. Chris? “What...?”

_“Something’s really wrong, he just called and he sounds… look, Tom you should at least talk to him, just for a few minutes…”_

Tom looked back to the couple on the couch, who were stubbornly ignoring each other, exchanging a few biting retorts with themselves mostly. Maybe they would be alright, just for a moment… “… Fine, fine…” Lillian hung up, and Tom pressed the number labeled ‘2’, listening on the other end for a moment before speaking. “Chris…?”

Chris sat up, already feeling a warm sensation wash over him. “Uh… yeah, it’s… yeah…” He couldn’t even be bothered to feel embarrassed.

“Is something wrong? You sound… not well, at least.”

“No, I’m f… okay, I’m just… I need to talk to you. In person. I really need...” His voice cracked near the end, and he cleared his throat, wiping his face as if it would erase all of the sobbing he’d done. “Can we talk, soon…? I know you’re in a meeting right now, and I don’t want to keep you…”

“No, no, please. I would rather spend my day with you a thousand times over at the moment, honestly,” the words slipped out of Tom’s mouth before he could stop them. Little did he knew, they finally made a small smile appear on Chris’ face. “How about you come by… I’ll be done with my meeting very soon, and we can talk then…?”

“Okay,” he replied. Even the promise of speaking to him made the world seem a bit brighter.

“Good,” Tom smiled and looked back to the couple on the couch. “Right, I really must be going, but it won’t be for long, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Okay… see you soon, Chris.”

“I’ll see you.” They both hung up, leaving Chris with at least some relief.

When he’d arrived at the office, Lillian smiled sweetly and was polite enough to know when not to ask. Chris knew without a doubt that despite all of the rubbing and wiping that he did with his sleeves, his eyes were still stubbornly red. He gave a curt nod and slumped into the chair against the wall, eyes now fixed on the clock. Only about ten minutes left. It was hardly any time to wait considering that he could have an evening with Tom. Not the ideal evening he’d had in mind for when he intended on spending one with him, but he couldn’t exactly be picky right now.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and Chris was left to his thoughts, wondering what exactly he would do after he told Tom what had happened. Tom would give him advice, tell him what he should do, comfort him and at least make him feel like someone really cared for him… but after that. He could already imagine Tom’s hand on his arm, the other on his back, rubbing soothing circles into him, making his troubles vanish if only for a little while. He closed his eyes and thought about the last hug he’d shared with Tom, already wanting another one desperately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so safe before. Probably not since he’d been hugged by his mother when he was just a kid.

He sighed to himself, his mind wandering, wishing he could hug Tom for as long as he wanted to. He wanted to forget everything else around them. He felt like that with Tom: like nothing else really mattered. With him, it was all out of sight and out of mind. He nearly wished he could have that with Elsa, but he knew deep down that he would rather have it with Tom.

He was snapped out of it when a hand was suddenly on his shoulder. He sat bolt upright and looked up at Tom, who had flinched back in surprise. “Sorry…” he murmured, pulling his hand back. “I didn’t mean to…”

Chris’ gaze flickered between his eyes and his hand, and the he had to once again fall into step with reality again. “No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s fine.” He stood, straightening himself out a bit, a little awkward now.

“Did you want to come back…?” Tom gestured back to his office. When Chris nodded, he led the way, not speaking until they neared the door. “I’m so sorry I had to make you wait… I wish I could’ve seen you sooner.”

Chris shrugged. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Tom spared a concerned glance back to him, but he continued on his way, opening the door for them and leading them inside. Chris stepped in slowly, idly looking around the familiar room, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Tom watched him for a moment, clearly able to see how tense he really was. “Are you alright…?” It wasn’t the best start admittedly, but it was a start nonetheless.

“Fine,” he said shortly, still keeping his back to him.  

“You know,” Tom shut the door, turning to face him with his back pressed against the it, “you keep seeing you’re fine. But… I don’t think that’s the truth.”

Chris turned to face him, but he was quick to lower his gaze, almost ashamed. He wasn’t trying to lie to Tom – somehow, he figured that Tom knew that as well as he did – but it was hard for him to just come out and say what was on his mind. Even with Tom, he still wasn’t immediately open with him. He figured he simply couldn’t be that way with anyone.

“Do you mind if I ask what’s going on…?” He stepped forward, taking Chris’ elbow in a light grip, guiding him towards the couch. Again, Chris was silent, though he sighed, and Tom considered it a step of sorts. “You don’t even have to tell me the details or anything. I honestly just care whether or not you’re alright, and you’re obviously not, and I want to fix that.”

Chris looked up. “I thought you didn’t fix things?”

“I don’t try to fix marriages or relationships. If I can, I just want to see you smile at least. That to me is fixing you.”  

Chris had a feeling that the words shouldn’t have hit him as hard as they did. All the same, they sat down together, Tom’s leg brushing against his briefly, a comforting sensation in a time like this. He was silent, trying to find the words. Eventually, they just came spilling out. “We fought again… a few times, over the past week. We haven’t fought this way in a while, not before this all started.” He saw Tom’s confused expression and stopped to gesture to him and the room around them. Tom nodded, silently allowing him to continue. “Anyways, she was accusing me of… not trying hard enough, saying I wasn’t putting my effort in…” He cursed himself and turned his gaze towards the ceiling, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. “S-saying that I didn’t care about India enough to come home when I should. She talks to me like I don’t care about her at all, and I _do_ , but how can I even try to be civil with her when I have a day for myself or a laugh with a friend, I’m suddenly not trying hard enough?!”

“Do you think she’s right?” Tom asked quietly. “About you not trying hard enough?”

Chris recoiled slightly, too shocked to register Tom tightening his hold on his elbow. “What? What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying, do you believe that she has a point? Do you think you’re putting everything you can into your marriage? Are you trying to make things work?”

Chris opened his mouth to say yes, of course he was fucking trying, but then it hit him: was he really? Was he actually trying to talk things out with Elsa, tell her how he felt and try to be intimate with her? It took no genius to figure the answer to that one. Tom had known it, probably right from the beginning, and Chris finally felt the weight of it like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t trying, mostly because he didn’t _want to_ anymore. “She…” he sighed. “She probably is.”

Tom’s thumb rubbed soothing circles into his elbow. “Why do you say that…?”

“Because I should _have_ to try, y’know?” He cleared his throat, keeping his voice from cracking; like it wasn’t enough that he was crying in front of Tom _again._ “I don’t think I should have to try to love her. I shouldn’t be putting effort into a being happy with her. Shouldn’t that be… I don’t know, natural? I shouldn’t have to try to be happy, right?”

He nodded. “I agree, honestly…  You really shouldn’t—”

“Hold on,” Chris stopped him, his brows drawn together in confusion. “You’re… _agreeing_ with me?”

Tom blinked. “Is that so shocking?”

“No, it’s just… I didn’t think you’d really… take sides, or something. Since you’re my counselor. Aren’t you supposed to say something like, ‘well what if we think about it this way’, yeah?”

“I _could_ ,” he said, shrugging, “but I’m not trying to be your counselor here. I’m trying to be your friend. It sounds… weird, but when you called, I just had a feeling that you didn’t want someone to feed you the usual counseling-speech about what you should do and what you should think about regarding your marriage. I’ve told you that before, haven’t I? If you would like, I can do that, but I just figured that maybe you’d want me to speak to you more openly, I suppose… Not that I’m never open, just that sometimes I have to keep in what I feel and how I judge your situation so that I don’t dictate your decisions.” He shrugged, appearing a bit bashful. Chris smiled.

“I think I actually appreciate it… I feel like I could use that now.” Tom returned his smile, relieved to hear him say so. After a moment, Chris made a sort of gesture towards him. “I know I interrupted you back there, so ah…”

“Oh, right…” He laughed lightly. “I was just going to say, you shouldn’t have to force love or happiness; no one is happy when they’re forced to do something. If you’re unhappy, how do you think you’d feel if I told you to go and have a good time even if you knew it wouldn’t bring you any joy?”

Chris shrugged. “I guess I’d feel worse.”

“Most tend to feel that way.” Tom smiled, giving a subtle wink, and it made Chris’ heart flutter. “I’m just saying… You need to think about that. And you need to think about where you’re going with Elsa.” Tom gave him a somewhat stern look, and Chris remembered when he told Tom he’d confess to Elsa how he really felt. He couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since he said that.

“I know, you’re right.” He sniffled, reaching up with his free arm and wiping his eyes again. “I’ll tell her when I’m ready to.”

“Good.” Tom paused for a moment before smiling. Something told him Chris wasn’t going to make much progress on that too soon. Though Chris could be confrontational, he somehow couldn’t break to Elsa that he no longer loved her. It was understandable though… he was too afraid of what would happen next.

Nevertheless, he moved his hand from Chris’ elbow and slid it over his arm, rubbing it soothingly. He had faith that Chris would one day be able to tell her. He’d find a way, and when he did, maybe everything would work out. He could hope.

Chris let the comfortable silence fall over them, the only thing breaking the silence in the room being his persistent sniffling. He hadn’t cried like this in so long, but it felt good somehow… of course, he’d had a good cry before, but now he felt like somehow, something was changing. Maybe this fight with Elsa would push towards their inevitable split. Chris – terrible as it sounded – silently hoped that it would be the case. That way, things could go much smoother when he finally told her how he really felt (or _didn’t_ feel, more precisely). Maybe Elsa would see that it wasn’t worth it. They could both move on and sort out all of the details without arguing or fighting or storming out of the room.

Maybe Tom wouldn’t notice him leaning on his shoulder a bit.

“I’m sorry I made a big deal out of this,” he mumbled, his eyes watching Tom’s hand.

“Don’t be. Sometimes we need to talk to someone.”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else to go to… I guess… I trust you with this, since I know you won’t gossip or spread it around or anything… that, and it’s easier to talk to you.”

Tom was glad Chris couldn’t see the hope in his eyes. “It is…?”

“Yeah. You don’t just tell me to grow a pair or something.”

Tom laughed softly at that. “I do what I can to avoid giving a response like that.”

Chris smiled softly, though he was finally feeling exhaustion settle in. The entire week had been him being pushed and shoved in every way possible, stretched out and thrown back together, carelessly walked over before he could manage to get up. He wanted it to be over, and now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave.

However, an ill thought set in Chris’ mind. Tom was probably busy, wasn’t he? Probably had people to see, things to do... It was a Friday night; he’d have friends to hang out with. Chris’ heart sank. He shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

Tom felt Chris shift a bit, moving away and slowly standing. He tried to hide his disappointment as well as he could. “Do you have to be somewhere…?”

“I don’t want to stay more than I should… I mean, you’re probably busy, or something… I don’t want to impose.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets yet again, averting his gaze towards his feet. Even Tom knew that he wasn’t telling the truth. It seemed so obvious now. How long had they known each other, exactly…?

“Come on, Chris, you’re not imposing. I _asked_ you to come here, didn’t I?”

Chris nodded, but he still didn’t meet his gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Yeah, but still… I kinda invited myself over. I don’t want to take more of your time.” He saw Tom stand out of the corner of his eye, and now he was pretty sure any moment now he’d crumble, left as a pile of rubble on the floor. He listened as Tom sighed, sounding as though he was relenting. Chris didn’t want to make Tom feel obligated to stay longer than he wanted to. But he also wanted Tom to convince him to stay, just to make him feel wanted like he could at least be with _someone_ who enjoyed his company.

“Where will you go, if I were to send you on your way?” Tom asked.

Chris blanked. “Uh… b-back home, I guess…” He added a shrug to act more nonchalant, but he couldn’t have added less effort to it if he tried.

“You would go back home? After what you told me?”

Chris was silent.

“You’re not imposing,” he insisted, and taking a leap of faith, he reached out for his arms and pulled his hands out of his pockets. “I wanted you here. And to be frank, I don’t ever really have plans.” He lightly shook Chris’ arms, smiling at him. “I’m not going to let you leave if you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

He looked surprised when he finally met Tom’s bright blue-green gaze. He didn’t even know what to say.

Tom had to muster up the courage to say what came next: “C’mon. Let’s go back to my place.”

Now Chris was dead silent. He’d gone rigid in Tom’s hands. And right when he expected Tom to apologize for asking such a question, he only shocked him further.

“I don’t think either of us wants to sleep here on these couches and chairs, and they aren’t that comfortable after about eight hours of sitting on them. I can tell you’ve got nowhere else to be, and I have a spare room readily available.” Chris nearly asked whether he was even Tom Hiddleston anymore when he added, “Only if you want to.”

Tom was never one to forget his manners.

But when was Chris one to say no to such an offer like that?

“You’d… really let me stay…?”

Tom nodded, now back to a softer expression. “As long as you need to.”

He didn’t even think it through; he did _want_ to. Tom had finally let go and was soon leading him out of the room, locking his door behind him. Chris noticed that Lillian had left as well, and Tom asked him to stand outside as he locked up. He glanced at his watch, not having realized that so much time had passed. As soon as Tom came back out, Chris walked toward his car, purely out of instinct.

“I know you don’t live that far, but… it’s dark. And this is faster anyways.” He shrugged, and Tom didn’t object. They stepped into his car and took the short five minute drive to his place, letting Tom direct him as they went. He paid special attention to the directions, keeping them in mind for later. Not that he was intending on coming back or anything.

They approached a small, one-story house in a rural neighborhood; the houses sat one right beside the other. Tom’s place had a sort of rustic, vintage appeal to it, though Chris was sure he could get a better look at it in the daytime. For now, he pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine and stepping out of the car, locking it once Tom was out.

“It’s not much,” Tom said as he guided him towards the patio. “But it’s home.” He unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning on the lights to the main room. It was neat and tidy, a welcome set of furniture set around a low coffee table. There were a few plants here and there, books stacked on the desk in the corner, many with bookmarks inside of them. Chris removed his shoes after Tom did, and Tom took the shoes and set them inside a closet off to the right, gesturing for him to follow. “I know it’s a bit late, but are you hungry?”

Chris shrugged; he honestly wasn’t, but he didn’t want to be rude. Though, given Tom’s attitude to him coming over, he wasn’t sure there was any was possible to be rude in Tom’s eyes. He would just take it as bashfulness and attend to Chris as needed.

“I’m not going to force food down your throat, if you’re wondering.” He sent him a smile and opened the fridge, which was covered in photographs and some letters held by magnets. It looked like family pictures, some from his early childhood, while others were quite recent. Tom seemed to have a few sisters, as they appeared in a number of family pictures with him. Tom closed the door and pulled out some juice, holding it up in an offering. Chris nodded, and Tom turned to grab a few glasses. “I can give you a proper tour of the home and grab you some things for the spare room? I haven’t got any blankets or pillows set up, but I’m sure I can find some…”

“Tom, don’t trouble yourself. The couch is fine.”

Tom passed him a glass, but he didn’t seem sure. “No, no, Chris, you’re my guest, and I can’t just let you sleep on the _couch_ …”

“It’s alright. Okay?” He smiled reassuringly, and busied himself with his juice, drinking it in a number of gulps. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was until right now. He forced himself to actually take a breath, setting the glass down and looking around at the house. It felt… odd, being here. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it still was his marriage counselor’s home, and somehow he felt he shouldn’t be here. That didn’t change the fact that he _wanted_ to stay for a number of reasons, one of them simply being he really did have nowhere else to go.   

Tom leaned against the counter, watching him from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t believe that Chris was here. It honestly felt like a dream. Sure he wouldn’t bring attention to himself, he pulled one hand back and pinched his own side, hissing beneath his breath. Well, at least he was awake. But now Chris’ eyes were on him.

“You okay?” He asked, having heard the small sound come from him. Tom immediately grinned and shook his head.

“Fine, fine.” He lifted his juice and drank the rest in a series of panicked swallows, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he feared they’d be. Thankfully for Tom, Chris’ eyes weren’t on his cheeks. Rather, on his throat, and the motion of his Adam’s apple as it bobbed with each swallow. He imagined his teeth on the curve of his neck, his tongue tasting the sweet flavor of that perfect column of skin, sucking on his skin and marking him—

He snapped himself out of it when Tom set his glass down. “So, ah… ready for a tour?”

Chris excused himself to the bathroom but agreed to one afterwards.

\--------------------

As soon as Tom showed him the house, finding anything to bide their time, they found themselves sat at the couch in the small yet cozy living room. Again, more bookshelves lined the walls (Chris had asked Tom if he intended to read all of the books, and was only moderately surprised to hear him say yes with a bright smile) and a TV was placed on a table across from the couch, showcasing a small movie collection beneath it. It caught Chris’ eye, and it wasn’t long before he’d walked over to the shelf, flipping through the movies. He hadn’t realized that he didn’t even ask to do so, but Tom didn’t appear to mind in the least.

It was alphabetized and featured a wide genre; numerous classics mixed with sci-fi hits and romantic comedies. Chris smiled when he saw some Shakespeare adaptations in the mix. He should have known they’d be in the mix. He lowered himself down to look at the next shelf, finally getting a feel for what Tom liked. Apparently he was up for almost anything, though horror films were lacking.

Tom watched Chris silently, a soft smile on his lips. He was glad Chris could find ways to distract himself. He had been worried that Chris wouldn’t be able to take his mind off of his and Elsa’s fight, but he seemed to be dealing with the stress well. At least on the outside: Tom wasn’t naïve enough to believe that he was still alright. He knew how dangerous it could be to keep your thoughts to yourself, but Chris had shared enough for one evening… Tom was willing to delve into distraction, just for a little while.

“God when was the last time I saw this…” Chris pulled out a slightly worn DVD case, revealing the cover of Jurassic Park. “This was my favorite when it came out. How many years ago was that?”

“Quite a few.” Tom couldn’t help but imagine a much-younger Chris, barely ten years old, entering the theater and watching the movie. He was reminded of himself when he’d gone; he’d been obsessed with dinosaurs ever since. He looked between Chris and the movie, then idly suggested, “Did you want to maybe… watch it?”

Chris paused for a moment; he was initially going to say no (why, he wasn’t quite sure), but he thought it over and figured… why not? It would be a great way to pass the time. All the more time he could spend with Tom. He nodded finally. “Yeah.”

Tom grinned. “Great.” He stood and held his hand out, taking the movie when Chris handed it to him. “Then let’s get it started, hm?”

Chris nodded and stood, stepping back to lean against the couch. Out of pure instinct, he pulled his phone out and checked the time. “Shit,” he muttered, quickly standing. “Hey, uh, I’ll be right back…”

Tom looked back at him, frowning in confusion, but quickly nodded. “Alright.” He turned back to the DVD player, figuring he could get Chris’ bed set up while he was gone.

Chris darted out of the living room and into the bathroom, choosing the second one that was a bit farther from the main area. He managed to check his phone right on time, as it was nine already. He closed the door behind him and locked it, dialing the home phone. He only hoped that India was still awake and still holding onto the phone, just so Elsa didn’t get to it first…

It barely rang once before there was an answer. _“Daddy?”_

Chris felt relief rush over him. “Hey, sweetheart…”

 _“You called!”_ He could practically see her beaming smile.

“Of course I did. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

 _“No,”_ she said, and Chris couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, not wanting to completely ruin the light mood, but still desperately wanting to know.

_“’m fine, daddy. I got to play and color after you left, and it was really fun. I drawed a horse and a dog and some cats on a farm. Then mommy and I played Connect Four and then we watched a movie and then she read to me.”_

“Oh yeah? What’d she read?”

_“We readed Rainbow Fish, the one where he gives his rainbow scales to the other fishes.”_

He smiled at her improper grammar; sometimes he was reminded that even though she was growing fast, she still wasn’t a teenager or anything yet. She was still his baby girl “That’s always been your favorite book, huh?”

_“Yup! That and the one about the caterpillar. I like that one a lot. It has lots of pretty pictures.”_

“How about we read that one when I get back?”

 _“Okay!”_ She giggled, and Chris leaned his bead back against the wall he’d been propped against, smiling to himself. God, he missed her already… of course he’d missed her the moment he left, but now it was just gnawing away at him. Just one reason he wished he didn’t have to stay away for so long… it was just more time he could be spending with India. His heart sank, and he felt that damned knot in his stomach again.

“What else did you do today?” He pushed himself off from the wall as she began to talk, sitting up against the counter of the sink and fingering the hem of his shirt. She went on about all the games she played and what she colored, and excitedly told about how she gave Ariel a purple tail instead of a green one. He laughed with her and asked more and more questions, just wanting to hear her talk for as long as she could. Maybe even until one of them fell asleep.

He hadn’t realized that nearly fifteen minutes had passed, and Tom – who was still waiting outside in the living room, now changed into more comfortable clothing – was becoming a bit worried. He looked out towards the hall more often than not, wondering just what Chris had gone to do. Up until now, Tom had forced himself to remain where he was at. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

… Though, there was no wrong in just checking on him, was there?

Tom folded his hands in his lap, scolding himself and shaking his head. It wasn’t his place. Chris was probably fine. After all, if he was honestly having issues in the bathroom, he’d hopefully call for help. Tom couldn’t even begin to wonder what kind of issues he could be having (his mind went to a dark place rather quickly, but he forced that back), but he was certain Chris would return anytime soon.

Another five minutes passed. Checking certainly couldn’t hurt. Especially after so much time had passed.

Tom stood silently, his bare feet making not one sound on the floors. He padded over down the hallway, keeping close to the wall, listening hard for any words he could hear.

“… I know, I know… I’ll be back soon though, remember? Just like I promised.”

Tom frowned, wondering who it could be. He wasn’t calling Elsa, was he…? An odd knot twisted in his stomach at the mere thought. He didn’t know what to make of it, but it was anything but pleasant.

“Hey, listen—listen—” there was a pause, but Chris spoke up, louder than before. “I have to go, alright? I have to go, and you need to sleep. This isn’t the best time.” There was another pause, and there was a sudden movement; it sounded like he’d started pacing. “No, no, please don’t give her the phone. Don’t. I can’t talk to her right now, okay?”

Tom’s chest tightened painfully, and he found himself leaning closer to the door, listening more intently.  He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but the thought wasn’t crossing his mind.

“N-no, it’s not… That’s not why, it’s not…” There was a choked sound, and Chris was sniffling again. Tom couldn’t bear it much longer. “I-I have to go. Sweetheart, I love you, o-okay? I love you, I love you, I love you…” A long paused ensued. “You can tell her that.” Another pause. The only sound to break the silence was Chris’ choked back sob. “No. No, don’t… don’t tell her that. I can’t explain why, baby, but… not now. Okay? Okay. I love you.”

Finally, it sounded like the phone was placed on the counter. Tom, knowing he should make his escape, sit on the couch pretend he never moved, was frozen where he stood. His feet were dead weight, his heart aching for Chris. And not even just aching, but reaching out, willing with all its might to extend the friendship and the compassion he desperately needed. Tom wished right then, more than anything, that he could be the one to do that for him. Not out of obligation as his counselor or even his friend. Something more.

Tom listened as Chris turned on the faucet, splashing his face with water. He was torn, knowing that he should go back, not wanting Chris to know that he’d been listening to such an intimate conversation. He sighed to himself, willing himself to make his choice.

He turned and slowly made his way back towards the kitchen, busying himself by getting them both some water and throwing a bag of popcorn into the microwave for good measure.

Chris finally entered the main room again, his eyes still red and his face so tired. Tom was surprised he could muster the smile he did. “Sorry about that… I know I’ve kept you for a while.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling as well. Were they just going to pretend nothing had happened? “I’m just making something to snack on.”

Chris sat, awkward again. That feeling was coming back again, that he wasn’t meant to be here. He had to have become an immense burden on Tom by now, forcing him to stay awake and watch movies with him until the late hours of the night. He sunk low into the cushion of the sofa, wishing it would swallow him whole. Maybe he could vanish and Tom would be free to spend the evening as he pleased. It was probably better than catering to him.

The microwave beeped loudly, and Tom returned with a large bowl of popcorn and two large glasses of water. Dimming the lights, he pressed play on the remote and settled on the couch with him, the bowl between them. Chris would have moved the bowl, but unless he wanted to write ‘desperate’ in bold black marker on his head as well, he knew to leave it where it was.

The movie was background noise. He was watching, somewhat listening, but his mind was completely elsewhere. Lost on India and Elsa, on what he’d said to her and what he would have to do. It was reaching the point where he didn’t want anything to do with Elsa. He’d told India to keep the phone away, to just tell her goodnight for him, but he also said to not tell her he loved her. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t.

The pain that used to rise in his chest when he said or thought those things was numb now. Maybe he’d just accepted it and knew that he couldn’t love her again. Maybe he was always in some state of pain that a little more didn’t even matter to him. He sighed softly, wishing he could forget about it. Just forget everything, pretend nothing had happened, for once feel like he didn’t have this weight resting upon him like a thousand tons. Maybe once he would feel like everything was going to be okay.

He was broken out of his thoughts when Tom had laughed aloud, rather abruptly, making Chris turn and look directly at him. Tom didn’t notice for a few moments, only realizing that he was being looked at when Chris didn’t turn his attention back to the screen. Tom glanced over hesitantly, obviously confused, then apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, ducking his head shyly and biting his lip gently. Chris shook his head, smiling. Actually smiling.

“No, no, it’s…” He never broke his gaze with him, trailing off a bit. “Don’t apologize.”

Tom finally smiled back, and it wasn’t until the Tyrannosaurus Rex roared that he jumped in his seat and was looking right at the screen again. It had been a rather long few seconds, too.

At some point, Tom had pushed the popcorn aside, claiming he didn’t need any more than he’d already eaten. Chris had laughed at that, never believing that Tom would be even moderately concerned with his weight. He was honestly as gorgeous as they could come, tall and lean with just the right shape in all the right places. He could recount everything about him again and again and never get tired of it. He shifted in his seat again and was surprised when his leg brushed against Tom’s, and without having realized it, they were both significantly closer than before. How that had even happened was beyond them both, because they exchanged a nervous laugh, each of them looking as guilty as the other.

He faintly remembered leaning over and resting against something, his eyes growing tired and his body demanding the rest he’d probably needed all week. His breathing evened out and he relaxed, his mind clearing and leaving him to slip into rest. He felt something press against his head, but it was gone within moments. It was the last thing he could recall before he was fast asleep.

Tom never objected for a moment when Chris had leaned against his shoulder. He didn’t protest when he seemed to have fallen asleep on his shoulder. Tom could practically feel the weight of his emotional stress slip onto him as well, though what he felt was probably nothing in comparison to what Chris was really enduring. In a moment of sympathy and pure affection, he angled his head and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad. But it was a good kind of sensation. The one that made him feel light and excited. It was a shame Chris would never know…

The movie ended some time later, but Tom remained right where he was. It was honestly tempting to sleep right there on the couch with Chris, but he was certain the morning wouldn’t go well if they were suddenly sharing sleeping arrangements. He took one of the pillows beside him and perched it against the arm, slowly shifting from beside him to slide from the couch.

He didn’t anticipate Chris to sling an arm around his waist.

He froze on the spot, Chris’ face now buried into his side, his arm hooked securely around him. He mouthed a short curse and looked up to the ceiling, praying that he could get out of this. He reached back and took Chris’ hand, gradually pulling it from around his waist and slipping away, nearly losing his footing as he bumped into the coffee table. He froze on the spot, Chris’ hand still in his, not daring to breathe until Chris was breathing steady again. A few seconds passed, and Tom deemed it safe enough to leave.

He regretfully pulled his hand from Chris’, not missing the way his hand still reached for his just moments after the touch was gone, and was quickly standing again, fetching a blanket and placing it over him as he curled up into a ball. Tom watched on for a minute or so, smoothing the blanket over his arm, taking any excuse to keep in contact with him. He slowly knelt down beside him, watching his face as he slept. He was glad to see that at least in his dreams he was at peace.

In a bold moment, he took a leap of faith, leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He lingered for what felt like an eternity, Chris’ lips right there. Tom swore they were calling for him, and it took an incredibly amount of willpower to resist. He closed his eyes and leaned his temple against Chris’ shoulder, relenting for this one moment of private intimacy with him. Tom’s fisted the blankets for a moment, convincing himself that he couldn’t do anything more, that it wasn’t right, that there wasn’t even a guarantee that Chris would _want_ something like this. It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair, to Elsa or India. Even to Chris. Taking advantage of him like this was beneath him, and Tom felt shame wash over him.

But god, he knew he would take that shame if it meant kissing Chris just once, and having him kiss him back.

Pulling himself away, he stood and turned on his heel, ignoring the yearning in his heart and shutting his bedroom door behind him, covering his face with his hands as he leaned back against the door. “What are you _doing_ ,” he murmured, biting his lip harder this time. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was trying his hardest to hide the smallest of smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really is no way I can have the audacity to ask for forgiveness. It's not my place, and I know you all have been waiting a long, long time for this. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you can understand that I don't mean to be gone so long. 
> 
> Also, I'm deeming this an early birthday gift for [homesweethomicide13,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/homesweethomicide13/pseuds/homesweethomicide13) who has certainly dealt with me the longest out of anyone when it comes to my grammar, my whining, my inability to churn out chapters, and... well, everything else. So, I hope you in particular enjoy the small bit at the end that you requested <3 (though not exactly how you imagined it likely, but I hope this counts for something~).


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